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Hello to you who may read this story, first of all I would like to thank Hialmar and DieselMass for the wonderful pieces and for inspiring me to write this homage to their style. Second, I was torn between making the story a full dialogue or fully description based, this is the final result, let me know if it is confusing, but well, hope you enjoy it
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He wakes up on this cylinder, naked and there is this dog tag posing on his pec, with the number 0605. Panic rises fast..
-Hey? What is this? Why am I trapped here? What is this on my neck? Why am I naked? Let me out! LET ME OUT! PLEASE! SOMEONE!-
The place appears to be desert, he keeps on screaming for help even so. Soon the cylinder starts to be filled with a thick liquid, the contact with his skin hurts him.
-UGH! AAH! THIS BURNS! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!
He keeps on screaming and the liquid slowly fills the chamber. This one is dense, at a certain point it becomes hard to move, the substance slowly burns his skin and he keeps on screaming until the chemistry on the substance makes him quieter.
The room is quiet now, he is floating on the center of the cylinder. It’s like he’s back into sleeping, but he’s wide awake. It all happens on his mind, where his ears start to capture sounds.
-INTERNAL DIALOGUE-
”You have been selected for the program”.
What do you mean, selected? I want to get out.
”Negatory, you will be made useful by the process.”
Process?
”You will obey”
I don’t want to obey.
”You soon will obey”
I doubt that. Ah this hurts!
“The process is being felt by 0605, it begins”
This hurts so much! Agh! What is happening to me? My whole body, I feel stronger! My muscles, I feel them.
”You will be made present”
What do you mean? Ahh! My pecs! They burn! My skin! If I could just move! Ugh! Ah!
”You will be remade”
My abs! What is happening? What is this?! It hurts! Ahh!
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He feels pain as his body transforms, and the voice keep on going. He feels pain, as his pecs expand, his abs come to life, his traps are remade, his quads become stronger. He is transforming.
Ah! This hurts so good! Aahh!!! Aaaaahh!! Aa augh
”You enjoy the procedure”
This is starting to feel good! Agh! My pecs, they are getting bigger! If only... Ah! My abs! I wanna feel them!
”You become the soldier”
I become the soldier?
”Reprogramming your mind”
Agh! This is getting better! I must... I must fight this! I need to return to... my life! Ugh! Such... pleasure! My penis is getting... is it expanding too? Ugh! It feels... stronger now! I am... a soldier! With a body like this... I should... Gah... indeed be a soldier... it’s getting... It’s getting better! Must... fight... Look at my arms! My arms! So big! So strong! Ugh! Ugah! Oh... I am... a soldier! Oh Fuck! Look at my... cock! It’s huge! I want to... fuck! My abs! My fucking cock! I need to... transform. My body! Ugah! Uhh! Uhh! UHH! I WANT MORE! I WANT TO GET BIGGER! I’m becoming... a fucking God! Tremble... humans! YES! I WANT MORE! I WANT... 0605 WANTS FUCK!!! LET ME FUCK!
”iniciating metamorphosis”
WHAT THE... AAGH!!! FUCK! MY SKIN! BURNS! AGHHHH!! BOILS!!! Reform. My bones, AGAH! Expanding! Must, be, more. Must, be, monster! 0605 wants fuck!
———————————————————
He is transformed, his body is expanded, his muscles are glorious, his horns are powerful, his metallic skin increases his potency. Only one desire on his mind now: to masturbate, and masturbate others. The liquid soon is absorbed by his body and the cylinder opens, he is able to move. He jerks off furiously and groans on a thick dense voice.
UGHH UGHHH FUCK MORE! 0605 A GOD! UGH UGAH!
He masturbates strongly and when he comes he roars vigorously, after that, he licks every drop of cum he can, like a starving beast. He is reformed, and ready for action.
He is Soldier 0605

Metal muscle five
After a long day of working out Oliver was heading towards the showers. With his aching muscles he needed some hot water to loosen up the knots in them. Opening the shower stall Oliver step through reaching out with his right-hand towards diverter valve in an attempt to turn on the shower when he heard a scream. Immediately Oliver went into action heading towards the sound which was coming from the gym’s locker room. What he saw caused him to stop in his tracts, huge muscular metal people gleefully attacking people with brutal efficiency. One of these muscular metal men whose thick metal arm was stabbing a big fat man belly looked at as Oliver and said.
"Look what we have here boys, an old man.”
Oliver quickly looked around trying to seek an opportunity to help the gym goers. But all of them were incapacitated with different states of damage, some were so bruised badly that they couldn’t even move, while others had broken limbs, were knocked out on the floor and others were being handled by a muscular metal man or just flat out dead.
Oliver seeing that the situation was hopeless and that he could not help anyone, attempted to grab a towel in the hopes of blinding one of these metal monstrosities so that he may retreat to fight another day. But it was not to be, before Oliver could even a grab a towel from a nearby bench, a metal man ran up to him with such speed that Oliver perceived the metal man as a blur. With his huge muscular arm, the metal man grabbed Oliver by his throat lifting him up in the air and strangling him at the same time. Oliver’s skin felt like it was on fire at the touch of the metal man.
“Tell my Lord Emperor maximum I said hello.” The metal man said. As he clenched his huge hand into a fist.
“what in hell are you talking about,” Oliver croaked while gasping for air.
As the metal man punched Oliver’s face leaving a big bloodied crater in it. Oliver woke up in the dark room with four metal like stone pillars on each side with ambient red as light. When he got up, he found that he was naked, and he was in some kind of place there was only the hard-stone floor and pillars the rest was a black void.
Then Oliver heard a powerful voice,
“you will do.”
He Suddenly felt a powerful presence begin to invade his mind. He was like an open book to this presence. His years as a child, a young adult and as an old man came to him in a flash.
“Daisy,” Oliver said. As a teardrop fell from his eyes.
The powerful voice gave a grunt, as if rifling through his memories was nothing. That grunt of apathy cost Oliver to get angry and with a roar yelled out.
“I don’t know who you are but get the hell out of my head.”
“Who am I you say said?” It said in a bemused tone. “I am your father, I am your Lord, I am your master, I am Emperor maximum you puny warm, but I shall fix that.” Oliver got the impression of Emperor maximum giving him an evil smile.
Oliver screamed as he felt his mind being torn apart by Emperor maximum. Some of Oliver’s memories were devalued others were destroyed and others were altered, and worst of all new memories, and thoughts like how to serve Emperor maximum were planted in their place.
Through the power of Emperor maximum Oliver’s wiry old body began to grow with new life and muscle. With every breath His pecs grew out, his biceps grew, his abs popped in the place, his back straightened and widen, his thighs swelled out, his feet grew longer, and he became taller. Oliver was growing, reaching light, medium and, then heavy weight bodybuilding levels growing out even more, Eventually Oliver’s human skin began to change into metal. Oliver was in now a 10 feet tall metal beast with insanely huge muscles, with pecs so big at the nipples point down words, biceps like bowling balls, thighs like thick tree trunks with lower legs to match, huge meaty hands, with a wide waste with a strong V to surround his eight pack ads, a strong square jaw, a huge 12 inches long erect cock, a pair of orange size balls, glowing red eyes, metallic coppery hair peppered all over his body with a beard and mustache and a bald head. Oliver came shooting hot metallic cum as red lightning surrounded his metallic body. The week Oliver was no more now there was only the general.
The general opened his eyes to find himself back in the locker room. He lifted his huge body up his head nearly touching the ceiling and left the locker room. When he got to the weight room it was filled up with huge metal men each taller than a man but who were shorter than him. He looked upon these men who were once patron of this establishment who are now warriors of Emperor maximum and said.
“Come with me my brothers we will conquer this world in the name of our master Emperor maximum.”
“For Emperor maximum,” The rest of the metal men said, as they saluted.
The general began to walk towards the exit with the other metal men following smashing anything that gone their way.
Couple days later
a small military base was being assaulted by the sons of Emperor maximum. Their metal bullets were useless against the metal man. The soldiers made a terrible discover for each male human slain or touched would slowly turn into a metal man joining the invaders by the time anyone discovered their weakness to a special type laser it was too late the base was overrun. Although two soldiers escaped the slaughter, the surrounding towns and cities were not so lucky and now in the hands of Emperor maximum making his army grow even further.
Chapter end
Authors note:
The series is been fun, but I am going to take a break from Metal Muscle for now. Let me know what you thought of the Metal Muscle series so far and let me know ways to improving my works for the future stories.
I am planning two another series: “Muscle mist ogre’s gift” and “Beef up the world ultra-bear”. I’m not going to say that “Muscle mist ogre’s gift” done but got all the ideas for the stories listed out for the first chapter. I just have to get the character bios made like what the characters look like that sort of thing for “Muscle mist ogre’s gift”. For “Beef up the world ultra-bear” I have the ideas for the first two part already typed up.
Muscle mist ogre’s gift: a small town is enveloped by magical mist which causes people’s muscles to grow and eventually transformed them into big hairy musclebound ogres.
Beef up the world ultra-bear: Bobby Brooker is running away from the enforcers when he its saved by a mysterious benefactor, who offers him a deal. Beef up all the men in the world and attain power and wealth or sit back and watch his world become enslaved by the triumvirate.
Let me know what you think about these two-story ideas in the Reply section.

Hi there! Long time lurker, this is the first time I’ve decided to post some content. I know stories have been posted about this topic before, but I wanted to make my own tribute to one of the hottest scenes ever created. Enjoy (and please forgive my English).
Jafar felt his body pulsing with magic energy when he was ready to make his final wish. He had become the most powerful sorcerer in the world. But somehow he wanted more. He wanted ALL for himself. He put all his lust for power together into his final wish when he yelled: ‘I wish to become an all-powerful God!’
He was overwhelmed when the ultimate power beam striked him in his chest. Even the most powerful being on Earth wasn’t prepared for the immense amount of power he was about to receive. His body and mind rapidly changing, the Genie’s blue form suddenly shrinking due to all of the power needed for the ultimate wish.
‘Yes! YES! THE POWER!’ Jafar yelled. His body form rapidly changed from that of a monstrously big snake to that of a true God. His face reshaping into a cruel yet extremely handsome face, exuding manliness, beauty and power. His torso quickly inflating, exhibiting insanely growing slabs of muscle conforming mountainous pecs. A brick wall of abs rapidly appearing underneath, with deep cleavages forming between each individual muscle. Huge shoulders spreading to the sides the size of watermelons, then of wrecking balls, then of mountains! Immense muscled arms hanging beneath, solid, veiny and almighty.
‘THE ABSOLUTE POWER!!!’ Jafar was laughing manically, eyes going blank. He moved his head backwards, he inflated his mighty chest while he breathed deeply, he clenched his fists with his godly strength. He was overcome by power.
Two immense legs were holding his growing form, the size of tree trunks, and finally the size of towers, every muscle visible, striated and sculpted. Finally an inhumanly big cock appeared between his legs, obscenely growing to meet the size of a god’s. It was hard and veiny, with a mushroom head on top. It was pointing upwards while it continued to enlarge, and was followed by testicles that appeared to be squeezing, beating, as if they were pumping more power into an already godly muscle-bound being of pure power.
‘I HAVE BECOME A GOD!’ His voice boomed. ‘THE UNIVERSE IS MINE TO COMMAND! TO CONTROL!’
His newly formed body was truly that of a god. Jafar felt his muscles pulsating with endless power, and he loved it. He was aroused by it. He knew he had become the ultimate being on Earth. He was so overwhelmed by his own power, that soon he was lost to the ultimate feeling of his sensitive and insanely big godly cock. He started to stroke it frantically with his right powerful hand, while he flexed his left bicep admiring its new mind-blowing size and strength, laughing and moaning while he speeded the process.
‘Al! What are we going to do now?’ Jasmine asked desperately. Aladdin was paralyzed at the sight of such a perfect being, newly formed in front of his eyes. ‘Al, there’s only one way of resolving this. You still have one wish left, remember?’ The Genie continued. ‘You have to become a God’. Aladdin stared at the Genie. ‘But I do not wish power for myself, besides it may kill you!’ Al said, begging for another solution. The Genie stared directly at his eyes and tenderly said ‘You are our only hope’.
Aladdin knew there was only one thing he could do. ‘Genie, I wish to become an all-powerful God!’ He wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen. The Genie used the remaining of his powers to make the ultimate wish come true. The beam hit Al in the middle of his torso, clothes disappearing instantly. His young, well-toned, bronze-tanned body was suddenly fed with a such an immense source of power, it was immediately forced to grow with muscles beyond his imagination.
It started with his abs, quickly inflating and protruding under his skin, forming a chiselled 8-pack, each individual muscle continuously growing in size and definition. As if the wish was spreading through his body, obliques appeared at the sides, and the most impressive Adonis belt underneath. His pecs were the next part to be empowered, his torso quickly gaining volume and unbelievable mass. His pecs were so massive that they fought for space, forming a deep cleavage between them. His frame was further endorsed with wide lats, then his shoulders were raised upwards and separated from each other while they ballooned with no end in sight. The empowering magic spread to his biceps, now inhumanly big, with muscle appearing over muscle endlessly, and to his triceps, now perfectly visible and striated. Finally his former forearms gained so much muscle they looked rock-hard, veiny and virile. Huge and solid hands seemed to bring perfection to his godly arms, which now Al felt as the ultimate weapons of power.
Aaah! AAAHHH! Al yelled while he flexed his biceps and clenched his fists at the sides of his waist. Meanwhile, muscles in his thighs had become to enlarge, size spreading downwards. Even with his legs separated they gained so much mass that they started to push each other away, with diamond calves appearing underneath, and mountainous glutes at the back, also struggling for space and perfectioning his rear view. To complete his enhanced godly body, a mammoth cock was growing while Al could only stare in awe. It was enlarging beyond his imagination, pointing upwards, pulsing veins spreading through its shaft until they reached the throbbing mushroom head. Al’s now perfectly handsome facial features showed pure joy and pleasure.
Al had to admit that the feeling of becoming the ultimate male, a pure being of raw power, an almighty muscle-bound God, was pure pleasure. But, unlike Jafar, Al didn’t give in to his overwhelming power, his lust and his godly condition. He was resolved to fight Jafar. ‘NOW I AM READY TO SHOW YOU MY POWER’ Al boomed with a new deep powerful voice.
While Jafar was reaching his sexual climax, lost in his own pleasure, Jasmine quickly grabbed the Genie’s lamp and exclaimed ‘I wish that Al overpowers Jafar and becomes the world’s true and only God!’
With the combined powers of Jasmine’s sincere wish, the Genie’s magic and Aladdin’s godly powers, Al forced Jafar’s wreckless being to disappear. He shot a power beam that connected him with Jafar. ‘NO! NOOO! MY POWERS ARE THOSE OF A GOD! YOU CAN’T DEFEAT MEEE!’ Jafar boomed with despair. ‘I’M SORRY JAFAR, THERE CAN ONLY EXIST ONE GOD IN THIS WORLD, AND PEOPLE IN AGRABAH HAVE CHOSEN ME!’ Al confidently replied.
‘Al! It’s a God you’re fighting with!’ The Genie shouted. ‘He can only disappear if you absorb his power! There’s no other way!’ ‘WHAT?’ Said Al, suddenly realizing what to do. He forced Jafar’s immense powers to abandon him and fuse with Al’s already inhuman body. ‘YES! YEEES, I’VE WON! NOW I AM THE TRUE GOD OF THIS WORLD! Al’s voice shouted more powerful than ever. While Jafar’s godly powers were being drained, his once obscene muscles were shrinking, his cock, once the ultimate piece of manhood, disappearing. And at the same time, Al’s body prepared for the incoming godly amount of power being forced into it, his cock pulsing as in anticipation.
Al thought nothing could be more powerful than the divine being he had become, but he was just about to be proven wrong. His body started to reshape, evolving, forced to accommodate another god’s powers within him. Muscles exploded all over in newly immense size, looking hard as steel, feeling hot as fire, each muscle fiber visibly striated, veins popping all over, feeding his muscles with endless power, pulsing obscenely. His once human frame was now monstrously deformed. His eyes had gone blank, his jaw looked more square than ever, a fearsome smile appearing on the most virile face imaginable. His mammoth delts almost engulfed his head, his massive pecs protruded onwards, his shoulders were separated even further, wide slabs of muscle conformed his lats, arms became truly almighty, his abs reshaped into a the most impressive 10-pack, his legs were powerful enough to hold the whole world. And his cock grew so disproportionate in size that it now reached his head and almost matched his waist in width, its surface almost entirely covered in thick veins, its cockhead pulsing, beating, while divine seed started to ooze, then drench, then his cock shooting semen like a throbbing cannon.
‘YEEEEES!!! I’VE BECOME PERFECT! LOOK AT ME PEOPLE OF AGRABAH, LOOK AT THIS BODY, I’M THE DEFINITIVE BEING OF POWER! I WILL RULE THIS WORLD AT MY DESIRE, AND THERE WILL BE PEACE, HAPINESS AND ENDLESS PLEASURE FOREVER.’
And with that, Al forced his massive godly body to take a more suitable and human-like form, still unable to hide its endless power, with chiselled, solid, and massive muscles, a perfect manly and beautiful face, and an obscenely big, hard, throbbing cock pointing forward. His imposing frame walked towards Jasmine, with lust in his eyes. ‘So princess, do you want to reign by my side?’

Long time lurker - finally got my fingers down to write a story, and hopefully many more to come. Posted in WarpMyMind (leejhaw) and MuscleGrowth.org (shawnkid).
-Chapter 1- Meet Charles
"Sup," my roommate nonchalantly greeted me as he walked out his room. My eyes almost fell out of its socket. The reason is apparent - my body-conscious roommate is walking around half naked. Beneath his grey sweatpants, his VPL proves that he's freeballing too. That could only mean one thing - it worked. What I did actually work!
It's true - some of us are more susceptive to hypnosis. And it comes in many forms, you have the usual suspects: binaural, subliminal, and the trance, which opens up a wide array of possibilities, especially for a closeted gay man like me. It's financially impossible to live in the city nowadays, especially when the rental is through the roof. Since I'm the only occupant in the one-room studio, it's natural to resort to renting out the room to another person to offset the cost to enjoy the convenience of the centrally-located apartment in the city.
The first time I met Charles, he wasn't much of a looker. I blame it on his hair, which is in need of serious professional help. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt that did not do justice to a man of his size. He works at the local coffee shop down the road, which explains the coffee scent in his hair whenever he walked past me. I reckoned he's around 25 years old, though I did not actually ask. He promised to clean the entire place once a week, I couldn't be any happier. Truth to be told, I was kind of desperate, and he looked decent enough - at least he has a job - so we shook on a deal.
When I stumbled upon the whole new concept of hypnosis, I was thrilled. But, how would I know if it truly worked if I have done so on myself? It wouldn't take anyone much to consider the case of convenience, right under the same roof. I went to the local hardware shop and bought some speakers and downloaded some audio software on my computer. It wasn't easy to get this figure out, but I was really eager to try. When Charles left for work at 7 am, I set my plan in motion.
I equipped his room with speakers over the plastic ceiling and wired it across my working desk. So, it would play whatever I needed it to play for an extended period of time, albeit needing to run in and out just to check if the volume is optimal for subliminal tracks to play without causing any distress and potential fallout before the plan see the day of light. I move quickly, knowing that he will come back in the evening after dinner.
And the rest will happen throughout the night.
My moral conscience would reprimand me if I ruin one's life for my own pleasure. So I decided to start off my experiment with something light. After going through tons of hypnosis books, I attempted to write a hypnosis track that focuses on confidence and preferences. Charles would sleep naked because it's more energy efficient as such - less laundry and less electricity needed to keep cool. He would be more comfortable with his own body, and perhaps begin pay attention to his body more.
That should be relatively fine and not qualified as manipulative? I have my doubts, especially on my ever-changing standards. Heh - oh well.
I let the track run for a week until one faithful morning - I see my roommate walking out of his room with nothing over his bare torso. I must say, he definitely look better with his shirt off. Why would he hide his toned body over all the baggy shirts - and that would be the next thing to go. And now I know my proof of concept works. I sat back down on my computer and prepared the next script for my dearest roommate, Charles.

Metal muscle 4
solder soldier specialist
Jacob and Levi were invited to Benson’s frat party. Jacob was driving them while Levi was navigating using a GPS app on his phone.
“Just a couple more minutes and tell we reach frat house”, Levi said. Movie a lock of black hair from his green eyes.
“finally, we are nearly there,” Jacob said in exasperation.
Levi,” Are you sure you won’t stay for the party Jacob?”
Jacob nodded his head and said,” no Levi I have to study I have a test next Monday and it’s an important one. Beside my parents are coming tomorrow. If my mother saw me with a hangover, she would never let it down. Plus, Benson’s parties are kind of lame.”
Levi,” you’re just saying that because Ella doesn’t plan to go.” Jacob blushed at this statement.
“I knew it,” Levi said with a shit eating grin.
“Oh, look we’re here,” Jacob said changing the conversation.
Jacob road up next to the door to drop off Levi at the large building, driving off as they said their goodbyes. Before Jacob could leave the parking lot his car mysteriously shot down. Jacob did the usual checkup for his car only to find that the car battery had died. Jacob pulled out his cellphone to fine that the battery was extremely low too low for him to call for help. Jacob thought he charged his cell phone when he left to take Levi to the party.
Jacob pulled out a spare phone charger from his car and made his way to the frat house. Jacob’s annoyed mood as his car died turn into fear, for some reason Jacob had a bad feeling but did not know why. Jacob was at the door when he had a second thought he was about to turn when he felt a powerful sense of fear which caused him to immediately open the door and entering the strangely subdued building. It was then that Jacob realized why something felt off, there was no music or sound of people partying, instead he heard strange rhythming heart beat sound and saw in horror, everyone on the floor as if they were all dead. Then he saw Levi prone body on the floor, unthinking Jacob ran towards his fallen friend. Jacob saw that Levi was alive, but his green eyes are starting to turn red. It was then that Jacob heard a deep voice in his head.
“I was not expecting one of your blood to be here, but I see it has diluted enough.”
Jacob looked around not knowing where the voice came seem to come from everywhere. Jacob yelled out, “who’s there?”
“How the mighty bloodline falls to this weakling. Not even worthy of my name let alone my respect.” The mysterious voice says in contempt.
Jacob felt angry and scared still looking for that voice. Not understanding that it was telepathy.
“It is fitting that the descendent of one who led to my defeat those many ages ago will be the first to be consumed by my might.”
Jacob,” what in hell are you talking about,” yelled out loud in frustration as he stands up.
“If you do not know who I am then clearly you have shamed your ancestors with your ignorants, or has it been so long that I have been forgotten, but do not worry. We will rectify that, when I am done with you will be praising the name Emperor maximum and your blood will be mine. For I will not make the same mistake.”
It was then that Jacob attempted to leave only to find the way block fine a huge muscular metal man with glowing red eyes. In horror Jacob realize what was going on. he did not hear the tearing of clothes; he did not see the pools of liquid metal all over the wooden floor where girl’s clothes were getting dissolved. it was if a malevolent force made him blind and deaf to his surroundings. Looking around he noticed the partygoers getting up. Jacob could clearly hear clothing taring as he saw them begin to grow with huge muscle. Shirts and pants of all types began to stretch before tear started to appear, they are clothes unable to handle the new growth. Regardless of their skin color the ones human partygoers started to turn gray then it became metallic. At this point there are clothes worrying being dissolved by their metal skin or were in tatters on the floor or even both revealing their new metallic muscles. There newly grown beefy metal pecs larger than his hand, muscling thighs way larger than tree trunks, bicep larger than a bowling ball, strong lower legs and arms, with the huge feet support their weight, Strong wide shoulders. Some had 6 pack others had 8 pack ads with a strong V while others had huge muscle gut. Regardless of their former size they all became 8 feet tall, With a fat 10-inch-long erect cock and big metallic balls. Whatever hair they had was gone there faces had strong jaws and strong facial features giving them a masculine look, with malevolent glowing red eyes.
Jacob was surrounded by these huge metal men, who were slowly making their way towards him, with evil intent in their glowing red eyes. For some instinctual reason Jacob knew that if these metal men touched him for too long, he would be doomed, but it was already too late for him to escape. Jacob felt a strong crushing grip on his left arm as he saw Levi who was 80% covered in metal and Hugh with muscle like the rest. It did not take long for his right arm to be grab by another huge metal men. Jacobs arms were in pain not only were they being crushed by the strength of these metal men, it felt like something was burning his arm off. Jacob tried to escape iron like grip of the changing Levi and former party goer.
Jacob looked up at Levi with pleading eyes as he said, “Please Levi fight it, let me go, resistance it’s evil influence.”
For a second when Jacob was looking into Levi’s human green eyes, Jacob saw a glimmer of recognition, but it was not to last. As a red slowly covered the green of Levi’s eyes, his white slowly turn black as one final human tear crept down only to be transmuted to liquid metal as it touched the metal skin that was spreading to his face. Before Jacob’s eyes metal consumed Levi’s face as it eats his hair leaving him bald. His one boyish face twisted and became brutally masculine like the rest of the metal men.
Jacob began to cry as he struggled to get loose. He could literally feel his skin turning into metal where the two metal musclemen were holding him. Then he felt it a strong force of malevolent intent. It hit Jacob in a wave causing him to scream in pain and fear. Jacob heard a door open than close, as some of the metal musclemen parted revealing a metal man who was holding a red crystal heart. It began to glow as Jacob heard in his head.
Crystal heart, “Scream for me little runt.” And with that said. Two huge veins like tubes coming from the crystal heart stabbed it into Jacob, pumping it metallic blood into his veins.
The rest of the metal men began to rub their hard-fat cocks in anticipation of Jacobs conversion. Jacob screen as he felt the liquid metal eat away his body transmuting his blood and organs into living metal. Jacob’s clothes began to tighten as being pumped with muscle. His clothes began to tear with the growth of his muscles, as he grew taller. His veins darken as his dick Harden. He stopped screaming and began to moan in pleasure. His flesh grayed out as it turned metallic and, his tight clothes bursting off of his changing body. His once chubby belly flattening than began to rise with eight pack. His growing pecs swelled and swelled until they were like small tight pillows. While his biceps filled out like a balloon reaching the size of compressed bowling balls. His neck grew so thick you may have thought that he had none. His shoulders widen letting His back muscles grew and became more defined. His ass filled out giving him a nice metal bubble butt. While his thighs grew like huge muscling tree trunks with teardrops. His lower legs were not spared growing as well to support his new weight as well as his feet. His 10-inch-long cock was pre-cuming profusely as his huge metallic balls swelled with new growth. Like the rest of the metal men his face changed becoming more masculine, but unlike the others he had metallic stubble giving him a 5 o’clock shadow.
The metal man that was once Jacob felt his huge metal balls tighten as his back stiffened and came, shooting his metallic cum all over the floor. The rest of the metal men came as well covering the floor with their cum. All the liquid metal that came from metal men’s cum and the metal that came from remains of the dead female metal flesh started to gather near the crystal heart. Then the liquid metal rises out to reached toward the heart as it retracted its vein from specialist metal man that it created. The crystal heart was slowly covered by the liquid metal it gathered forming a huge metal ball. Thee in case crystal heart began to levitate off of the hand that was holding it.
Crystal heart, “My brothers revel in the glory of our father Emperor maximum and take pleasure for this night for in the morning we will seek a general to lead my army so he will spread the glory of our father.”
“For Emperor maximum,” all the metal men say. They began to worship and pleasure each other.

Okay, here's the start of something new. Let me know if you want me to carry on!
What you need to understand is that Harry and I had been friends all our lives, or nearly. When we were in playgroup, I chewed on his toy car. When we went to school together, we taught one another to read. If a teacher asked me what my name was, I’d say: “Max and Harry.” For years, right up till we went to university, people would call us Maxandharry or Harryandmax.
Even at Uni, him studying Biological Sciences and me doing Business Studies, we texted nearly every day. For a while, after celebrating our Friendversary, we even changed our Faceboook names to MaxandharryandharryandmaX, till he pointed out it looked a bit gay. I felt a bit sad changing it, but my girlfriend of the time told me he was right.
In the years since then, of course, we drifted apart a bit. We were both in London but we would only meet for a drink every couple of months. I guess he slowly started noticing a change in me about summer 2019 when I had made a special effort to get #BeachBodyReady.
‘Shit, mate, you really do have a gym membership, don’t you?’ he said. ‘When are Men’s Health ringing you for a cover feature?’
I was in a short sleeved shirt and I was feeling pretty good about myself back then, but still I knew he was talking shit. ‘Bro, have you seen the guys on Love Island? All I’ve done so far is lose a bit weight really.’
‘Impressive though,’ he said, sinking the last of his pint.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘Not yet.’
‘Well, I reckon Niamh would think so,’ he said.
I cuffed his shoulder. ‘She’s not superficial like other ho’s,’ I said.
‘Girls like that sort of thing, though,’ he said. He looked down at himself. ‘They can’t help themselves.’
‘They like to see we’re taking care of ourselves,’ I told him. ‘Anyway, you’re far from overweight, dude.’
‘Underweight, if anything,’ he said. ‘I do my heavy lifting with this.’ He tapped his brow, and we both laughed.
‘Mind you don’t go impairing it with two many hipster beers, then,’ I said, getting up to fetch another round.
‘If you promise not to go crazy with this gym stuff,’ he said. ‘You’re fine as you are.’
But I knew he was wrong.
By the time we met to toast Christmas, he couldn’t resist squeezing my arm. ‘Holy shit!’ he said, eyes wide. ‘I thought you just had a big jumper on under that coat. You’re huge!’
‘Not as big as I’d like,’ I couldn’t help saying, blushing. ‘Still a way to go.’
‘What do you weight though…?’
‘About 70kg,’ I said, automatically. ‘Roughly 150lbs.’
‘Whoa,’ he said, ‘I didn’t expect you to actually know. You must be taking this seriously.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s fun too.’
‘Bet you’re not drinking tonight.’
‘Maybe just the one. My body fat’s down to 7%.’ I sipped my orange juice. ‘It feels great, though. I’m so alive, so capable. And, bro, let me tell you, the girls are hanging round me like flies around shit.’ God, it felt good..
Harry didn’t seem to feel so, though. ‘Mate, I didn’t need to have another reason to feel inferior,’ he sighed. His mouth was proper down-turned.
‘Niamh,’ I said, testingly.
He nodded glumly. ‘I wasn't enough for her, it seems.’
‘You were too good for her, anyway,’ I said, although I wasn’t sure how true it was. There he sat, a weedy little guy with glasses, maybe half my size. He couldn’t have lifted a weight above his head, let alone bench-pressed what I was doing. He looked pretty pathetic. ‘Maybe you should join my gym. Just to cheer yourself up.’
‘Can’t think of anything worse,’ he said.
‘Come off it, mate,’ I said. ‘Build a bit of muscle and you’ll feel amazing. Imagine if Niamh sees you on the beach next summer with your shirt off, biceps bulging, pecs rippling…’ I tailed off, thinking how ridiculous this sounded. Even if I could persuade him to take some exercise, I thought, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to take his shirt off on camera. He was still as lean and hairless as when we both set off for University.
I wondered, was I naturally superior to him? Niamh would certainly have picked me over him for a mate: law of the jungle. I’ve have shown her a better time, as well. I didn’t like to think how embarrassing Harry must have been in bed.
I shook my head to clear it. Harry had been talking to me and all the time I’d been thinking about banging his girlfriend, cucking him in his own bed. Crazy thinking. I interrupted him: ‘I don’t want to hear any shit, mate, you’re coming with me to the gym tomorrow and that’s that.’
He sat back in surprise, held up his hands. ‘Fine. Fine!’ There was a long pause. Finally he laughed and got up to go to the bar. ‘Better get a round in while I’m still allowed, then!’
‘Skip the crisps this time, okay,’ I laughed back. ‘2020’s going to be your year.’
And to be fair to him, he turned up. He obeyed me, as if I was in control of him. He did the exercises I told him to do. He changed his diet. It became quite fun, turning up to see him at the gym – maybe not as often as I would be there, but at least a couple of times a week. He didn’t enjoy it but he worked hard.
At the end of January, he had actually lost a bit of weight – but sadly, he hadn’t put on a single shred of muscle.
We stood looking at one another in the mirror.
‘I can’t fucking believe it,’ he said. ‘I’m actually smaller than before.’
‘I’ve just grown bigger,’ I said, ‘that’s all, mate.’
‘Bullshit,’ he said. ‘Yes, you’re bigger but look at me. I’m a shrimp. Nobody would guess we were the same age.’
‘You’re a week younger,’ I told him, shrugging off my sweaty vest. ‘Maybe you’ll always be…’ Again, I didn’t want to say the truth.
‘What?’ he demanded. ‘What were you going to say? Weaker? Smaller? Inferior?’
‘But only to me,’ I told him. ‘You might put on some muscle by summer. You won’t be strong but you’ll be fit.’
‘That’s really what you think of me,’ he said, eyes wide. Furious. He looked like he wanted to pick a fight with me, but something rational was stopping him. He’d be mullered in a second.
Instead, he ran away. Just grabbed his bag and stormed out.
I should have run after him, but I was meeting this girl for dinner. He had told me on Tinder that she wanted me to fuck her like an animal, and I was still wondering how best to do that. I was too distracted.
That was half my trouble.
MaxandharryandharryandmaX was in trouble for the first time in history. An unshakeable bond, broken by the gym. Or maybe more, I thought. Maybe by masculinity and testosterone. Maybe by alpha male power. It could never be equal again now that I had begun to dominate.
February slipped past, and I thought about him every day. I dreamt about him. I dreamt he was watching while I effortlessly fucked Niamh. I was pumped and bigger than ever while I worked at her tight snatch, and he got smaller while he watched me.
In March, I finally sent him a message. ‘Miss lifting weights with you. Miss lifting pints even more.’
He replied almost straight away. ‘Maybe we should resume one of those activities. Guess which one.’
‘Gym’s open longer hours,’ I replied, with a emoji to show I wasn’t serious.
‘Mate,’ he texted back, ‘I wouldn’t go there right now.’
‘Why?’ I asked, expecting a joke.
And so, Harry was the first person to tell me about coronavirus.
I thought it was just him making an excuse about not exercising. I don’t follow the news, don’t really do social media; in fact, I was pretty buried in work and working out. I suppose, I also didn’t want it to be true. I was in full denial.
And so, inevitably, I caught it.
I’m strong. I’m healthy. I don’t even take roids, so no strain on my heart. So I guess I was well prepared for it. Even so, it knocked me out for longer than I expected. Those were some crazy weeks. Maybe the weeks that followed were even stranger.
Apart from work, Harry was the main person I was in contact with during lockdown. At first we talked a bit about fitness: my gym had closed. I tried to buy gym equipment online, but there was none available.
‘I must have got the last set,’ Harry told me.
He told me it was the one good thing in his life now. It was hard for him - he was still so weak - so I sent him tips over email, links to videos and online advice. He asked me questions about diets and supplements and steroids. I told him to do it all clean, which disappointed him, being the biology scientist – he wanted to make himself into his own experiment. But it was a good thing. It was like we were the same person after all, just slightly out of phase.
Except I couldn’t work out, not properly. I did some bodyweight stuff and started running. The muscle just melted away. I ended up looking as lean as a stick of celery.
‘You’re going to end up as my trainer,’ he said, when we talked about it.
I didn’t like that. What if he caught me up?
So we didn’t talk about it.
And the lockdown rolled by.
The lockdown was raised. Life began to return to normal. It was September when we arranged to meet again. A few drinks in the same old pub we used to frequent – but first, we would work out together, side by side.
It struck me, as I walked towards the bench press: we were equals at last.
MaxandharryandharryandmaX had been brought closer together by the quarantine. We had both realised something: his innate power, my humility. At last, we would be best friends once again.
The only problem was, he didn’t appear to have showed up. The gym was pretty much empty, and the only person hanging around our agreed meeting spot was a big guy. Proper monster. Shaved head. Lats out to here, waist in here, a real triangle. He looked nearly a foot taller than me and I was worried for a second. In an empty gym, it’s pretty bad etiquette to stand waiting for a piece of equipment. I didn’t want him to think I was trying anything on; he could have ripped me apart.
He turned around and the light glinted off his glasses. He smiled. ‘Hey, Max, you made it!’
‘Harry?!’ I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a wind-up.
He opened his arms inviting me for a hug. Each arm was as big as both of mine put together. The muscle was thick and pumped as if he had just completed a workout, not spent months in quarantine.
‘Harry,’ I said, looking up at him. ‘This is insane. You’re a fucking beast.’
‘I used the lockdown well,’ he said seriously. His voice had grown deeper. It was like talking to a different man with my friend’s face, one who towered over me.
‘All this came from working out?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I see you went the other way.’
I looked down at myself, blushing. ‘Yes, I’m pretty small these days.’
‘How big were you before the lockdown?’ he asked me.
‘Let’s not talk about it,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should –’
‘Cut the crap,’ he said. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘About 75kg,’ I told him. ‘165lbs.’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You used to seem so big,’ he said. He ran his hands over the huge globes of his chest and the hard, thick ripples of his abdominals, lightly brushing his fingers across the giant vascular boulders of his biceps and the vast shoulder-muscles that framed his firm chin. ‘I’m about 270lbs. 125kg.’
‘It’s not possible,’ I said.
‘Feel it,’ he said. ‘Then you’ll know how possible it is.’
I laughed and held up my hands. ‘That’s fine, I’ll believe you.’
‘What is the problem with you?’ he said. He didn’t raise his voice but the authority was clear. ‘I told you to feel it, you little bitch.’
‘Are you okay?’ I asked him.
He shook his head for a second. ‘Sorry, bro. It’s the testosterone. Sometimes I lose control. I mean, it’s true that you’re little. And you’re being a bitch.’ He put a hand over his mouth and blushed. The redness spread down his huge neck where it got lost at the tops of his pecs. ‘Jesus. Just bants, mate. Just bants!’
‘Will it help you if I – if I feel your muscle?’ I said, putting my hands on his physique.
‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘I’m like a loaded gun nowadays.’
‘More like a cannon,’ I said, feeling his might. ‘The Incredible Hulk has nothing on you. So you went for the steroids after all?’
‘No way, you little cunt,’ he said, breathing heavily. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, Max. But no – not steroids, exactly. I did some research. With some friends online. Other biology academics into weightlifting. I was looking for short cuts, and they were looking for ways to build size and strength. I think between us we tapped into something that did both. Workouts combined with certain hormones and particular herbs. It’s all perfectly safe, just a few side-effects.’
‘Like the anger management issues,’ I suggested. ‘And all this fur.’ I ran a hand through the pelt on his monstrous chest. ‘You really are becoming a beast.’
‘Fuck!’ he gasped. ‘You touched it! I should have warned you – but I thought it would sound gay.’
‘Touched what?’
I snatched my hand away but he caught it in a giant fist. ‘You touched my nipple. Fucking sensitive nowadays.’
‘So what – what does that mean?’
‘It means,’ he said, ‘either I need to fuck a woman in the next ten minutes or…’
‘Or what?’
Harry looked toward the changing room door. ‘Or, old friend, you’ll have to milk the cum from my big swinging balls…’
TO BE CONTINUED…

So, Hi all, it's been quite a while since I posted anything. RL and all that.
I posted this a while ago on the Gay Spiral Stories site. I hope you like it.
THE VISITOR
Remember, you came to me?
I asked you when you first came to my door, pale and sweaty with anticipation and need. I said to you “Are you certain?” and you nodded, tears in yours eyes. You had a hand full of money and your head full of desires and urges that you, in your state then had no way to fill.
You were small then, a tiny insignificant speck in a world that didn’t whether you lived or died. It didn’t care because it didn’t even acknowledge your tiny existence. You were a speck. Unloved, unnoticed and unimportant.
All your life you had wanted to be something more, something bigger. You had wanted to make your mark on the world and trumpet your cause, your existence. A purpose. You tried many things over the decades that brought you here. You joined social groups and went online to feed your desires. You met up in hotels and conferences and played all the games. You listened to all the tapes and read all the fantasies and stories you could.
You ate it all up and it sufficed, for a while.
Then the hunger caught you again, that gnawing, rapacious sensation. That void aching to be filled by…something. You didn’t know or care but you still sought it. It started to encroach on your every waking moment. It was merciless in it’s tenacity and you kept feeding it’s gaping maw.
Every day, every night you found little moments of pleasure. A clip here, a story there. Every day you continued to dig, to forage in your grubby little world of self-discovery and self-loathing in equal measure. You couldn’t help yourself. This obsession had taken you and you obeyed it’s whims and whiles willing.
One night, in the quiet dark times before the sun’s rays caressed your computer screen, where you were still poised like a techno hunter waiting for some fresh game to come along. You happened upon a link that brought to a site that brought you to another site, that provided a link that gave you a phone number that you eventually found an address. It brought you to me.
Do you remember what you said to me? How you begged? I told then it would have a cost. You said you would pay it, whatever it was. You said there was nothing in your life you weren’t prepared to give up willing for what I could give you.
With that stated I stared at you, sat there in the big chair by my fireside. I smiled at you and I’m sure the light from the fire’s glow was reflected in my eyes. You flinched a little at this. I smiled some more.
You told me of your life, quiet, horny and lonely. You told me what you had spent on your needs and wants and how much you were willing to spend. I could see you sat there in the firelight, a small bulge in your trousers expressing in a way without words how much your desires affected you. I asked you to give me details and made some cursory notes on a pad on the table. Not that I needed to of course. I already knew what you wanted. What you craved in the darkest moments of your most fevered dreams.
You wanted all the pain to go away. All the hurt and suffering in your life, all the want, all the need. All the guilt. You wanted to see the world through innocent eyes again, not to be so inside your head as you put it. You wanted a life more physical and less cerebral. A life where all your cares and woes would be washed away, gone. Just like that. A world where you hadn’t been bullied at school and been a bully in return when you went to college.
A world where you hadn’t been in a loveless, sterile marriage that had ended up just hurting the both of you because you hadn’t the nerve to admit what was really the problem. A world where you didn’t have any sordid little secrets and perversions that you thought would be held against you even though the world being what it was could really care less about you either way. You want a world where your dreams can come true, as I said. A world without pain, without suffering and without shame. A place for you to build a dream of lust and a place dedicated to your pleasure and your own needs. A selfish world to be sure. Not an impossible one. Many people do it but they do manage to pop out every now and again and remain a member of the human race. Not you. This is not what you want.
I steeple my fingers in the firelight and lean forward from the shadows my eyes glowing once more in the firelight.
“Are you ready ?” I asked you. You nodded meekly and swallowed hard.
“Then, let’s talk desire.” I smiled again.
I look at you now as see what and who you have become. Do you remember what you were when I had you sat before me when I said…
“Are you ready?” You nodded like a supplicant waiting for a blessing. You licked your dry lips and stared up at me through your weaselly, boiled egg, watering eyes. You swallowed the fear back in your mouth. The bravest thing you did and the thing that made me decide that maybe you were worth a second glance.
I stared deep into your soul and really saw the aching yearning desire you have. It was pure need and lust. You wanted to be freed of your mental and physical shackles but, ironically would be willing to taking on more bindings of a different sort. “I think then we may have an accord.” I said. My deep masculine voice reverberated around the room seeming to cause the flames in the fireplace to flicker slightly. You looked around nervously and then back at me as you wiped the sweat from your brow. I caught you hand quickly before you had a chance to bring it down again and trapped your fragile claw in my hard, calloused paw. It was as if you were a child, your hand was thin, frail and almost translucent it was so pale. Even though your pulse was erratic in fear I could feel your essence and knew that you were ripe for the change. I would be able to turn you easily.
“Stand.” I commanded. You did so swiftly and nervously with me still holding your hand. “Are you willing to serve? If I gift you as you wish so fervently will you serve me in return and pay my price?” “Y—es, Yes sir. Anything. Anything you ask.” You breathed.
“Take off your clothes.” I said in that same tone. You went pale and looked at me a moment as if trying to decided whether to flee the room back into the night where you had been only minutes before. You even glanced to the closed dark wooden door as if weighing up the odds before my strong arms clamped down on your shoulders preventing it. You stayed, not that I would ever have stopped you fleeing. You got this far on your own you must do the rest of it on your own too. You started to disrobe. First your light Jacket, as faded and worn as you were. Then your sweater and tie. Placed neatly on top of your Jacket. Then the inner vest that revealed the pale almost eel-like body underneath, barely any hair and perspiring in fear.
You undid your belt and then slipped off your brown loafers placing them under the chair. With that down you shuck your trousers revealing again the pale, slim body underneath. This left you in your socks and your baggy underwear. You paused a moment and looked at me. I raised an eyebrow and nodded once at the underthings and you took off your socks and then your baggy briefs. You placed them very tidily on top of the pile and stood there shivering slightly in the warm room. You looked down at the floor and ashamed of yourself and covered your manhood with your small hands. I shook my head once hinting that you put your hands by your sides. You obeyed, revealing your manhood, your essence, your cock. It was surprising large. I know that you had used it well and often in your life, giving pleasure to your few real partners and eliciting surprise from the ones you paid for. This was the one thing in your life apart from your intelligence you could do something with. Your explorations into desire had taught you well.
This pleased me. I could feel that dark energy running through you. The essence of the man you wanted, no desperately needed to be. It was a good 7 inches in length and was cut as is the way in this country for many men. It had a good weight to it and despite your fear it had a small drop of pre-cum just peeping from the little slit. A seed of the dream to come maybe. This would all be up to you.
“Turn around. “ I said. Taking in your slumped shoulders and back. Your almost flat buttocks and stick-like legs finished off the picture. I placed my hands on your shoulders, you could feel the strength in them, the roughness of them and the heat radiating from the palms. You stopped shuddering. I placed my lips close to your left ear and you could feel my breath and felt my chest, shirtless as it was pressed against your back. I know you had a hard on in that moment. I could feel your heartbeat quicken and felt your lust and need grow quickly. This was good, this was fuel for the fire. On that thought I whispered in you ear.
“Throw you clothes on the fire.” “See them burn and realise this is the end of the person you are now at this moment. By the time they are consumed so will you be.” You picked up your clothes and shoes and walked to the blazing hearth. Slowly piece by piece, one by one you dropped them into the opening. The firelight reflecting off your skin and your erection never receding.
We stood there in silence for a moment looking into the flames as they consumed your former life. “Come back to me and turn to the fire.” I said. You complied and turned once more to stare into the flickering, golden firelight. I came up close behind you once more dropping my own garments and standing behind you totally naked. I towered above you. Thick, strong and massively muscular.
“Stare deep into the flames.” I whispered. “And place your hands on your cock.” I commanded you again. “I want you to see yourself. See yourself within the fire. Imagine it holds the key to your dreams and needs. It can grant you all you desire and so much more, but you have to want it.”
I called your name quietly as you gazed rapt and entranced by the dancing fingers of fire. Red, yellow, blue and light. All the colours flickered and reflected on your body. “See the change. Do you see it?” I asked. “Yes…I see it.” Came your quiet reply. So far away and distant but certain. “All you have to do is bring it out of the fire.” I said. “Let the heat come to you, draw it into yourself and become one with it.” I said. You continued to stare and I heard your breath catch for a moment. You were ready. I reached down and grabbed my own impressive cock. “Now I think we’re ready.” I said as I spat into my hand and rubbed it on my hardened member. It’s 10 thick, glistening ready and willing. “Lean forward.” I said. “Change is pain boy.” My voice dropped even more and became darker. “And this is gonna hurt.” I plunged my cock into your tight, unyielding hole. I know that it almost felt like it was tearing you in two but it didn’t. You felt both the pain and pleasure of it. This was what you wanted, what you needed and desired above all else. This was the price. You screamed into the hand I had placed around your mouth, the other on your shoulder as I slowly drew out again before slamming back in once more, up to the hilt leaving you with my entire cock inside you. I paused for a second and then repeated the same movement. I stared to get a rhythm slowing deep dicking you there in front of the fire. You screamed and whimpered into my hand and I know you were hard as steel. Your own cock now drooling it’s own precious juices.
“Bring it into you.” I said as I rammed into you again. “Bring the change.” I said louder. “Embrace the change.” I shouted as I pummelled your arse. In and out, ramming your rapidily slackening hole. Ruining it for lesser men. “Take this fuck and become who you have always wanted to be. “ “Tell me what and who you are.” I demanded, never letting up. In and out, in and out. pistoning like a crazy engine. “I’m a big, stupid muscle whore!” You whispered. “WHAT ARE YOU!” I shouted in your ear as I felt you begin to change. I felt your back changed first, filling up and out as you were bent over letting me fuck you. It broadened, unfolding like a sail. “Nhhhhhgghhh….” You groaned as the back broaden into a monstrous almost u shape it was so wide. “I…..I’M arrgggghhh.” You moaned as your shoulders sprouted like mountains from your back. They were like titanic carved boulders, a mountain range that met in the middle at the Everest monument that were your Traps. They were magnificent. I gripped them hard almost biting down on them as you neck thickened too. It grew thick and wide enough that if you flexed which you were doing it would be thicker than your head. Your traps rising almost to your ears. “WHAT ARE YOU?” I rammed you mercilessly now, slamming your growing and tightening butt. I was get rounder and harder at the same time. I could feel you getting used to the invasion that I was committing to your hole. It felt amazing. I could feel myself getting near. “I A….BIG…Nrghh STUPID…WH…argh….FUCK ME! You scream as I ploughed you. Your desire feeding mine now as you began to push back against my thrusts as if born to do this. I could feel you grow taller, your legs rapidly thickening. Beautiful sweeps and shapes. Carved granite trunks that could snap a tree branch with ease and perfect rounded calves. All the muscle cut and carved to perfection your feet growing in size to accommodate the growth above. “WHAT ARE YOU?” I screamed now. Slamming into you with abandon as I knew the final phase of the physical transformation was coming. Your chest and abdomen had built themselves up. The pecs were beyond human shelves of muscle. They were so big that the perfect, rounded, thick, juicy nipples had to point down as the mass of them had nowhere else to go. The abs were inhuman to look at. Thick, hard, ridged muscle cut it’s way across you midriff. Beautiful obliques and then serratus muscle standing out in perfect contrast leading to a perfect Adonis belt at the top of a thick muscular waist that was able to support the sheer massive construct of flesh above it. “I’M A BIG, STUPID MUSCLE WHORE!” You bellowed in deep voice that brought me over the edge. I came inside you, I rammed you almost in a rage as I shot, load after load and spurt after spurt of cum into your warm, receptive hole. Sealing the physical transformation you had so desired.
I pulled out of you, both of us panting like bulls and sweating like them too. I could hear your deep voice as you groaned. I grabbed a towel from the side and walked over to you. “We’re not finished.” I said. “I don’t understand.” You said as you stood up, sweat glistened off your still pale body. Your face and hair were unchanged and look at odds with the physique you had sculpted for yourself. You were looking at yourself in awe and pleasure. You kept touch and flexing, catching your reflection in the mirror over the mantle. “I still feel the desire.” I said, my voice darker. “I…I…This is fine.” You stammered in your masculine timbre. “Not so.” I said putting my hands either side of your face. Drawing you close and kissing your mouth. My bearded chin and lips roughly scratching at your skin.” “MMMffff” You said against the invasion of my tongue. You realised what was about to happen. This was the price you had to pay.
Your skin began to darken, to become the hue of a man who works outside. Warm and weathered. Thick veins started to thread themselves across your body, especially on your shoulders, traps, biceps and most of all your forearms which were a monstrous construction. Almost beyond human in the girth and vascularity. Your legs were symphony of criss cross veins. Bulging out with every moment, each muscle group and striation screaming to be seen through the paper like skin. With the tan and the veins came the hair. You were a mousy brown-haired man no longer. Slowly each hair started to change colour and new patches grew on your body as I continued to kiss you. You began to kiss me back, to explore my mouth with your tongue. Probing and suddenly eager. Your beard started to grow out, thicken after a good few moments into a nice lumberjack style beard. The hair on your head started to fall out slowly as the rest of your body grew more thick, beautiful red hair. Your beard, chest and legs as well as your armpits and balls all had a covering of thick red hair. Your shiny bald dome was the only contrast.
You were moaning into my mouth now, almost trying to fuck my mouth with your tongue. I could feel you jacking yourself off, you hadn’t cum yet and that was the part I was waiting for. I pushed back with my tongue for a second and your face changed. It crumpled almost. Re-arranging itself. The brow got much thicker making the eyes seem deeper set. They were transforming from the dull puddles they were into beautiful bright green gems that glinted seductively from their deep sockets.The nose appeared to be slightly crooked as if broken but it seems at home in the square jaw and firm chin that it was now set in the middle of. The lips were sensuous and still perfectly manly, especially as you were still trying to rape my mouth with your tongue.
You were close now, groaning and masturbating furiously as I pulled away from your mouth. Streams of saliva dripping between us as we separated. “Huh—hhuuuh uh uh” You panted. You wanted release but needed me to let you go. I smiled and turned you towards a large mirror in the corner of the room. You saw the monument of a creature you had become. You were flailing mercilessly at your eager cock as it too began to grow. It thickened and lengthened in your hands to the point where you put both your meaty paws on it. You thrashed it back and forth like a lunatic pre-cum flying everywhere. Your balls dropped again and hung thick and pendulous below your cock and your voice deepened even more as you groaned in desperate need for release. “Huh….uuuhhh..” You groaned rocking back and forth back and forth. You stared at me in the mirror unable to speak and the only thoughts were of your need. I stood behind you. I smiled and then I whispered in your ear again.
“Pay the price.” I said oh so quietly. “Tell me what you are.”
"Gnnnngrahhhhhhhh” You bellowed with your entire soul. You didn't need to "say" anymore. You never would again.
Your fire-hose cock started to jerk and bounce as your huge firm balls contracted and you began to spurt hot, thick,cum. Shot after shot at the mirror you were staring at. Totally enraptured by the red headed god in the mirror. You seemed to lose your voice as it became only grunts. All you felt was your need. You didn’t have room for anything else. All your knowledge, all those years of study and work. All the years of disappointment and yearning, All the years of wandering and longing. All those memories now gone. You shot out every part of the you that walked in the door. Each pump of cum was also a handful of I.Q. Not that you realised or even cared for that matter, so in love with the muscled bull in the mirror.
You got what you wanted.

Topher got lost on the forest of that planet, or whatever the enviroment he happened to be was. He couldn't find his way back to the base, and was started to get desperate. Even if he was born in this foreign place, he never got used to its surroundings, to its miasma, and wanted to change that when deciding to be a part of the corps of his colony. It turned out to be a bad idea, being at the bottom of the hierarchy, he was put in menial tasks. This was supposed to be his first true mission, to just explore the region, but then things went terribly wrong, and there he was now, lost. He had his armour, but nothing could shield him from hunger and the dangerous nature of that place, he had to go home.
He walked, he walked, he fell, it was fast, he didn't have the time to think about it, there was a huge hole on the floor, he fell. The hole was deep and led to a cave, in its bottom there was a deep lake, but not of water. It had a different name: Xenomass. Green and thick. His armour absorbed the impact, but his weight was too much for it to float on that piece of foreign substance, even if it was thick. He sank into it.
His despair was visible, as no human ever was exposed to the xenomass, as the miasma, it was supposed to be toxic and deadly, it had no use to no one, and yet he was immersed in it, protected only by his armour. He was scared, but didn't scream, as he figured the armour would keep him safe. After a bit, he started to try to move his body, trying to reach the surface of the lake. Again, bad idea, the substance started to damage his equipment, to corrode it, and then layer by layer he was getting more vulnerable. Finally, it reached the last sheet before entering in contact to his skin, he could barely move, everything was so heavy. It was a matter of time before Xenomass would touch his skin.
It happened, pain, pain. He screamed, scared and feeling his skin burn, as the xenomass started to invade his last layer, it was quick, all his body was exposed to it, he soon fainted.
Something happened, Topher didn't die, but his body was offered to the planet, as a sacrifice, but the planet was benevolent.
He started to grow in size and in muscle, he was a skinny awkward boy. He grew in size and muscle. His body started to change, becoming more muscular and thicker, and taller. His pecs soon started to grow, inflating, becoming large, defined, muscular, hard. His abs came to life and were sculpted by the substance, 6 hard packs came to the surface, his shoulders would greatly expand, becoming round, thick, huge and large, strong, enough to support a great deal of weight. His arms expanded, becoming huge and as muscular as ever, and so did his legs. Skinny boy no more, he was getting big.
His DNA changed and the mutation became deeper, his burnt skin transformed, being covered by metalic scales, his teeth grew and sharpened, his feet and hands metamorphosed. His two feet became paws with 3 huge fingers with claws, and his hands were formed by 4 fingers with claws in it, his eyes were covered by a multitude of lenses, becoming transformed and superior. All his hair was gone, and a group of horns appeared on his head and shoulders. His heart was obsolete, giving place to a strong plasma producer that would supply his body with his new needs. His lungs were transformed, and he could breathe through his skin, but his nose was kept. He was no human anymore, Topher gave in to a magnificent creature, that was about to come to life.
The armour had disappeared, everything merged into him, his dogtag was now where his heart once was.
The creature came to life and opened his changed eyes, coming to the surface quickly and roared. But he was still human on his mind, so the roar made him extremely scared, Topher soon realized the changes in his body and was desperate, he cried for help and begged for mercy, and then he had a need to drink the xenomass, he did it like an animal. Confused and worried, he had no idea he had no need for anything, anymore, that this was a blessing. He could still talk but his voice was changed, similar to a growl, even if he still was the awkward guy in his mind, what was left of him.
The self discovery journey was a long one, he spent weeks in the cave, learning that he needed xenomass now like a human needs water. He discovered how strong he was when he had to open passages through the walls, so frustrated he was by coming into dead ends. He discovered how powerful his vision was when he could see creatures hiding beneath the rocks. He slowly started to like his changes, to find himself more handsome than ever, and that made his cock awake. He was only vaguely sexually awaken by then, as a human, let alone as the creature, but his new powers made his cock hard, and since he was alone, he decided to relieve himself, he jerked off, first very timidly, then more confidently and finally he was enjoying a pleasure he never felt. He felt so many things when he came, felt aggressive, felt in charge, felt like he was meant to be the creature, he licked the cum in his hands and roared of satisfaction, this was a new beginning for him.
This cave was his new home now, as he found out he needed no one anymore, he spent a month living in it after finally discovering a way out. That cave was his home, but he decided to pay a visit to his former brothers in arms. Not as Topher, but as Genesis.

PHOLUS REBORN
by absman420
When I got the call that my Grandfather had passed, I had an odd mixture of disappointment and relief. I’d just seen him a few weeks ago, when he’d turned 92, still as spry and troublesome as ever. He’d been a landscaper and gardener since coming to America in his youth -- he claimed it a tie to the old country, the old ways. He knew plants and he knew how to love them -- his garden lush and inviting, alive and ready-to-burst, even up to the end, when HIS heart had burst. (I’d inherited that from him -- not the bad heart, the green thumb -- though I only grew marijuana in the basement of my house.)
They’d found him in the garden, dead. It was the Executive Manager of the Home who felt the need to inform me -- but still with his disapproving attitude -- that my Grandfather had been masturbating when he’d died. “And in the garden, of all places!” he’d said with mock indignity. I shrugged -- what should my reaction have been? It was the Home’s Resident Mortician who’d pulled me aside and informed me quietly that my Grandfather had been “remarkably blessed” with “prodigious equipment” and that the erection he’d had when he’d died hadn’t gone down. (Sadly, I’d not inherited that from him -- mine was more pint-sized than prodigious.)
It was no secret that my Grandfather was the bane of the old folk’s home -- the sexually-forward, inappropriate old man who wouldn’t leave the ladies alone. Or the nurses. Or the staff. Although they had a soft spot in their hearts for him -- everything else was about his hard spot, the one he was constantly playing with. All in all, they were not sorry to see him go.
While in his room, gathering his few personal effects -- the things worth anything -- another old man came in, one of his fellow gardeners, and presented me with a towel-wrapped object, saying, “Big Red wanted you to have this.”
I’d never felt like I’d connected with my Grandfather -- “Big Red” -- we both shared the red hair, but that was all. I’d always assumed it was because I was gay -- his generation had their old-school outlooks -- and he believed in big, hearty masculine expressions. Potency with him, above all -- fertility. His garden had been a reflection of that.
But he wanted me to have something! See? He’d thought of me! Even in death, there’s hope!
Rolling back the towel, I was surprised to discover a clay garden gnome, about ten/ twelve inches long -- but at least not the cheap, Disney-fied version with the goofy red hat and cheeky smile. (That would’ve probably made me leave it behind.) This was significantly older, a hand-painted terracotta statuette of a disheveled old man dressed in rags with a lusty half-smile on his face -- the only other noticeable detail about the sculpt was that the gnome had an obvious bulge. (Like the kind you don’t see that on the modern-day Wal-Mart gnomes!)
“He wanted me to have this?” I ask the other old guy, trying not to sound ungrateful, like I wasn’t suspicious of a joke. “A garden gnome?”
“Gnomes are powerful symbols of fertility,” the old guy said -- just my luck, my Grandfather was pals with a professor — then he added, “Look it up. You’ve got The Google” and I felt a lot better about my Grandfather’s associates. “It’s been in the garden long as I can remember. Your Grandpappy said he’d had it his whole life!”
I took the Gnome -- “Thank you,” I said. “I have the perfect place for it.” -- (Ironically, I did!) -- and after I’d gotten all the business and paperwork and payments at the Home complete -- my Grandfather safely in a box being shipped to the family site -- I headed back to my house, a few hours away, the Gnome resting in a box in the back seat.
I DID have the perfect place for it -- my little basement grow. I put it down at the head of a row of a hybrid I was developing -- I aimed its little bulge at the marijuana plants. “Let ‘er rip,” I laughed. “Show me the fertility!”
And for the next year, it did just that -- my yield increasing by over 65% -- until I carelessly knocked the little Gnome off the shelf and broke it.
And that’s where the story really starts.
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According to “The Google”:
Act surprised, the Ancient Greeks had a God for it -- a God of Fertility: Priapus. Apparently his power was manifested in his oversized genitals -- but with the Christian invasion (and forbidden sexuality that accompanied that religion), Priapus and his cock became a demon, or represented as a withered old man with an uncontrollable erection, often pushing his giant cock before himself on a cart. Religion made genitals and their symbology a punishment, a curse -- act surprised.
So… Gnomes. Little old men with massive genitals -- a European ode to the Ancients. Little clay gods of fertility for your garden -- Priapus through the ages. (They didn’t become “cutesy” until the release of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” at the beginning of the 20th century -- Priapus becomes Dopey.)
I find stuff like that fascinating.
********************************************
Ultimately, it didn’t matter because the Gnome was just a delivery device.
I mean, literally.
Just as I was about to buy into the idea that a fertility icon in your garden increases yield, I go and knock the fucking thing off the shelf while tranferring a tray of younglings. Fucking stoner thing to do, honestly. I mean, I tried to “catch” it with my foot -- or at least soften the impact. All I managed to do was scratch myself as it bounced off my sandal -- don’t laugh! It drew blood -- and then shattered on the cement, missing the floor mat because of my interference. Fucking idiot.
And I was hoping, you know, maybe some glue? But doesn’t destroying it wreck the mojo? Doesn’t breaking it stop the voodoo that it do so well? Isn’t that the folklore? Immediately I thought of my Grandfather -- now a year in his grave -- he managed to get through his whole life without breaking it! Maybe some glue….? Idiot.
So I knelt down next to it and gingerly lifted it up -- the front wasn’t cracked, but collapsed from age, barely more than dust -- glue wasn’t going to help. Fuck.
And then the discovery.
Something inside the hollowed-out middle, wrapped in what seemed to be very old cheesecloth -- very, very old, like great-grandma’s linen that never came out of the box, faded and brittle and delicate beyond possibility -- someone had planted something INSIDE the Ancient Gnome.
Eagerly -- nervously -- I carried the whole mess to my work-table and clicked on the bright, overhead light. I was more afraid of ruining whatever was inside -- especially if it was some sort of message or something. (This was why I wasn’t an archeologist -- it couldn’t possibly be this romantic in real life!) Should I be wearing gloves?
I had to break the Gnome a little further to get the package to come out freely. I was a nervous wreck, suppositioning all over the place -- had my Grandfather known about this? Was it my Grandfather who’d planted it? Was this why he wanted me to have the Gnome in the first place?
What could it possibly be?
The rag or cheesecloth or whatever the hell it was that wrapped it nearly dissolved away, turning to dirty dust even as I tugged on it. Pieces of it came off intact, but it was nothing more than wrapping, no message or clues. Just old -- insanely old -- hundreds of years old. If my Grandfather had known about this, he hadn’t changed anything -- he hadn’t wrapped it in anything new.
It was two objects wrapped together. One was an icon, about four inches long, a crude stone carving of an overly muscular man with an enormous phallus -- his dick went practically to his chest -- his eyes dark jewels. The other was a tiny, dark bottle, like a perfume bottle, dark glass, deep blue, a small stopper with a wax seal. Holding it to the light, I couldn’t see through the thick glass, but I could feel it’s age.
I spent a few seconds cleaning the bottle, dusting it off and wiping it down gently. Even if there was nothing inside it, the bottle itself was spectacular -- I’d never seen anything like it. I picked up the statue and did the same, wiped it down, cleaned it up, blew off the dust.
I was looking in his jeweled eyes when -- I swear -- they lit up, bright red. Not just “caught the light”, not just “sparkled”, they LIT UP and -- I’m not kidding. I’m not making this up -- I had a vision. I heard it speak to me.
It said, “PHOLUS”
I dropped the little muscular stone like a scorpion -- like a venomous fang. I looked at it in horror as it balanced on its side by its big penis, staring helplessly at the table.
What in the name of God?
“Name of God!” That’s IT!
I pulled out my phone.
**********************************************
From The Google:
In Greek mythology, Pholus (Greek: Φόλος) was a wise centaur who lived in a cave on or near Mount Pelion.
Are you kidding? Pholus is really a thing?
A centaur? Weren’t they half-horse?
Well, I guess that little statue there is partially-horse, at least.
But there was something else.
In astronomical terms, Pholus (from Φόλος) is an eccentric centaur (an object classified somewhere between an asteroid and a minor planet) in the outer Solar System, approximately 180 kilometers (110 miles) in diameter, that crosses the orbit of both Saturn and Neptune. It was discovered on 9 January 1992…
Wait. What? -- I was born on 9 January, 1992. Pholus and I were twins… which wasn’t funny. It was getting weird.
Nicknamed “Big Red,” it’s orbit around the sun takes 92 years and one month…
92 years and one month… my Grandfather -- Big Red’s exact age when he died!
Okay, I was fucking freaking out by this time! Too many coincidences. A centaur -- an eccentric centaur -- my birthday -- my grandfather’s orbit -- but that still wasn’t everything. There was one more.
When Pholus (from Φόλος) appears in an astrological reading, it represents a spark, a start, grand events set in motion from something small, like shooting oneself in one’s foot, the butterfly effect. When Pholus appears, an unexpected adventure follows.
Fuck you, the Google.
******************************************
I leaned against the wall and stared at the work-table for a while, at the askew little icon and the blue-glass bottle.
I sat on a stool, smoked a joint, and stared at the stone man, released from his prison, forever erect. How did he talk to me? How had that happened? I’d never heard of “Pholus” before -- I couldn’t have made that up. And even if I had -- there were too many coincidences… there were three different versions of “Pholus” and all of them applied to me! I couldn’t have known about that and “forgotten” -- I didn’t smoke that much weed.
No. I’d had a vision -- the icon had spoken to me.
Assuming that to be true, I thought, I shouldn’t fear it. If this icon was meant for me -- and it seemed like that was the only conclusion -- then I had no reason for fear. One shouldn’t fear destiny, especially when one knows what it is.
Sadly, by the time I worked up enough brave-energy to touch the icon again, nothing happened -- it was just a piece of cold stone. No more flare -- no more sparkle -- no more insight. The little stone dude had a pretty amazing cock… and he seemed so proud… but he’d stopped talking.
So, the bottle then.
What could it possibly be? Perfume? Wine? Magic Potion? Poison? I mean, it’s ridiculous. I should have it analyzed -- I should find out what it is -- I should know before I unleash some disease, some demon, some genie in a bottle. Maybe ingesting whatever was inside would transform me into a centaur -- well, being gay, maybe a unicorn?
I couldn’t see through the deep blue glass, so I didn’t even know if anything was inside at all. I was so busy playing mind-games with myself that I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, even.
Sigh. Another joint.
Anyway, when I finally got around to opening the stupid thing, it was nearly midnight. The stopper, which was also glass, was sealed with what appeared to be a thick wax. I used a tiny screwdriver to flake it off. It took a little back-and-forth to completely break the seal, but once I did, the little stopper eased out quickly.
The Scent.
The Scent alone.
My cock was rock hard immediately, just on the scent alone -- sex and leather and sweat and metal, the smells of masculinity, from the playful snips and snails and puppy-dog tails of youth to the moment of adult dominance, to the rut of the thrust, the spreading of the seed, it was fertility, the deep, moist earth. It was the Essence of Man.
I was compelled to taste it -- I didn’t think twice about it -- it wasn’t until long after the moment that I thought there may have been danger. In the moment, there wasn’t any thought at all, just need -- driving masculine need. Whatever was in that bottle I needed in me.
A drop was all -- and barely enough to qualify for the word “drop” -- it rolled lazily out of the bottle like a thick, congealed syrup -- but when it hit my tongue…
Orgasm!
Immediately, my cock shot -- overwhelming! Like this huge, savage, I’ve-never-felt-it-like-this-before orgasm! Like, so incredibly all-encompassing that every cell of my body was my cock and they were all shooting at once. And then I was able to taste this syrup as it spread across my tongue -- battle and strength and muscle and sweaty maleness mixed with earth and flavored with fire, the taste of heroes and prowess and sweet, hard-won victory. Horse flanks, battle songs and flasks of wine, wrestling for sport and the tight, sweet holes of olive-skinned apprentices -- it was everything dark and earthy, meat and marrow, savagery and strength. It was gloriously masculine.
And the aftertaste was dirty, and sexual, and rutted, the nasty, shit-flecked maw of the satisfied fornicator -- the flavor of lust.
I was oh, so horny -- I needed to fuck, cock-driven, unapologetic, just lay-in and pound kind of fuck. Not love-making, no gentleness -- playfulness, yes; powerful, definitely -- fucking male on MALE sex! Then came the mental run-down of my fuck-buddy list, too few and too far between, the usual Grindr stall, the seedy bar -- any option. All options. Need to fuck.
It was a stranger whose name I sort of remember -- I didn’t care -- all that mattered was the hole. By that time, crazy, stupid needy lust. My little cock was flared and strong, flexing beyond its norm -- serve it, suck it, take it, fuck it. Pholus started the adventure!
**************************************************
I woke the next morning in a stranger’s bed, crusty and sweaty, the smell of sex on my breath -- glorious! My cock immediately hardened. He slept on his side, my unknown partner, his back to me, a little blond thing -- his hole was red, swollen, smeared with my dried cum and his ass juices.
It smelled glorious -- earthy, sexy -- raw. It was impossible to resist, so I didn’t, licking his hole, loving the taste, digging in and eating. Gripping around his balls, I felt his cock harden with his morning’s piss. Fuck, I wanted that, too. All of it.
He woke moaning. “Ohhh, man… stop. I can’t… I’m sore and I gotta pee…”
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” I mumbled, slurping his hole. “Lemme just eat it awhile…”
“That’s gross,” he said, pulling himself away. “I’m gonna pee -- you should be gone when I get done.”
I was laying there with this big hard-on -- I showed it to him. “Aw, c’mon, baby, you can’t leave me like this…”
“You got a nice dick,” he said, pulling himself out of bed, “and you sure know how to use it. You fucked me every which way sideways last night and I’m sore as hell right now. But you should be gone when I get done.”
“Aw, fuck,” I said, with this impossible hard-on, and these blue-ass balls. Cold little bitch.
Where the fuck were my shoes?
********************************************
The Uber driver could smell me -- I could tell. And I know it made him uncomfortable -- he shifted himself in his seat several times. After a while, I realized it was because he had a hard-on, too.
That was fucking hot.
Cocks were fucking hot.
With my fingers, I squeezed mine through the material of my pants while we drove. I knew he saw me -- I didn’t care. It felt too good.
Everything felt good.
In the shower, I noticed it more in my balls than in my cock -- the growth, I mean -- but also from the undeniable rush of testosterone. The way it felt. I was a man -- all man. I felt like a man -- and I fucking loved it!
I gave very little thought to the idea that whatever was in that bottle had adversely affected me -- just the opposite. Whatever was in that bottle had changed me for the better! Somehow, it had awakened something in me -- it had connected me to something greater than myself -- MY masculine essence.
I shot off a load in the shower, praising Priapus and Pholus (and Phallus, too!) -- I could phuck them all! Who could deny the power of the cock?
Who wouldn’t want this?
**********************************************
From “The Google”:
Priapism is a condition in which a penis remains erect for hours in the absence of stimulation or after stimulation has ended. Most cases are ischemic. Ischemic priapism is generally painful while nonischemic priapism is not. In ischemic priapism, most of the penis is hard. In nonischemic priapism, the entire penis is only somewhat hard.
Aw, fuck man -- that was me in one bold sentence -- nonischemic priapism. My dick hadn’t been flaccid in over two weeks. The only reason it didn’t concern me was because it didn’t hurt -- so why shouldn’t it show itself off? It was a damn nice cock -- it was just putting itself out there. As a matter of fact, it was kind of hot
Fucking EVERYTHING was kind of hot! That my sex drive was stuck in high gear was kind of hot -- finding out I have nonischemic priapism was kind of hot. But hottest of all? My dick was getting bigger.
My dick, my balls -- bigger. It didn’t help that my cock was semi-hard all the time, it just kept me from noticing it right away. But in the last two weeks, my hard cock had shot up to eight inches! And not in Grindr inches, either -- ACTUAL measurement!
And my testosterone production was up, too, like a thousand percent, thanks to my growing balls, over-producing to make up for their past. My workouts had been fucking crazy -- they would just go on and on and I’d never lose energy -- two, three hours. The harder I trained, the hornier I felt, my big cock jutting out before me, struggling against the compression-anything I wore. I swear, I was shooing the guys off like flies -- I think my smell attracted them. I think my sweat was becoming some kind of pheromone or something. I was fucking them in the steam room, the shower, one guy in the janitor’s closet -- I was a fucking beast! A beast with big, low-hanging balls.
I thought about going to the doctor, but then I thought, why? What’s WRONG with me?
For the first time in my life, it felt like everything was right!
I was getting muscular -- not huge, not like one of those muscle-heads -- but BIG, you know? Commanding. Six months after I’d been blessed by the gods, I weighed a solid 235, carrying almost no body-fat. I learned (from The Google) that testosterone was a natural leaning agent, one of the reasons teenage boys (at the peak of testosterone production) looked the way they did -- the more I produced, the leaner I got. So, at 235, I looked fucking awesome, even bigger than I really was!
I started getting hairier, too. At first, a thicker pelt on the chest, a scruffier beard -- sexy -- but then my shoulders, my back -- I began having to trim back my bush or it would’ve taken over. I became the King of Manscaping. I ended up with a rough beard -- I gave in on that, otherwise I was shaving two or three times a day. But apparently, the boys liked the way it felt on their holes, so I didn’t sweat it. The hair grew thicker in the grooves of my abs, emphasizing them even more. I was so… fucking… manly!
By then my cock was nearly 11 inches long in its constant semi-erect state, displaying itself proudly before me. People REACTED to it -- no matter how I tried to hide it at first, once someone saw it, they couldn’t stop looking. (I do believe it’s hypnotic -- but that’s a point for later.) And to be honest, I loved the attention. I thought I would’ve been freaked or embarrassed by having such an obvious member, but it was the opposite -- the bigger it got, the greater my pride and eagerness to show it off.
*********************************************
From “The Google”:
Erect penises have appeared in erotic (sexually exciting) art for a very long time. Pictures of men with erections appear on ancient objects and in paintings. In the past, the erect penis was also a symbol or sign of health and fertility (the ability to give life). Ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans believed in gods that had erect penises. Men with larger penises are often thought to be more handsome, manly and powerful.
I became a Brand. There was little else I could do, actually. I mean, why WASN’T I in porn? Why wasn’t I sharing my blessing with everyone? I created the “Pholus” Brand -- and I adopted my Grandfather’s nickname, “Big Red” -- Big Red Pholus, that was who I became.
My OnlyFans page… I swear, I put up a video of me commando beneath a pair of loose gym shorts, jumping rope in slow motion, and within two days… money was no longer an issue in my life. I set a record for followers within a week and became an “Influencer” on IG so fast I had to look it up on The Google to find out what an Influencer was. Clothing designers -- I had a guy specifically for underwear and jockstraps -- assistants, an entourage, the works!
And this was the weird thing: the worship… empowered me. I mean, it… it made me… more than I was. As I did cam shows and live shows and as my audience grew, I grew, too. Not just muscularly (where I was steadily improving), or scrotally (where I was pushing boundaries), I mean spiritually. Can you imagine what it does to your psyche to have guys pay you obscene amounts of money just to touch your cock? To have them beg you to suck it? To love it the way you do?
I accepted it -- I welcomed it. I had been blessed by the gods -- I was something more-than-man. A demi-god -- a demi with a semi. A demi-semi-god! I had a destiny.
Sex was easy, constant -- I was either seducing or fucking. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, it was a prelude to sex. I couldn’t have enough -- there was never a moment when I was satisfied, when I wasn’t eager for more. And men fell under my spell -- whether it was my smell, or my aura, or the obvious swell of my cock -- they all gave it up for me, they all became my bottom.
There was nothing I enjoyed more than finding the Big Alpha straight-guy at a strange gym and watching him turn into a weak-willed bitch when he’d ultimately yield to my superior cock. The look on his face when he’d first see it beneath my gym clothes, or more regularly, my compression pants -- shock and awe -- the way he’d try to befriend me, like we could be the cocks-of-the-walk together, buddies -- and finally him on his knees in the locker room, in the posing room, wherever, pounding his own cock while he gave in and worshipped mine.
It was the way of men to worship gods.
And all men worshipped the god of the phallus -- and now Pholus, who seemed the god made flesh.
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More from “The Google”:
In Greek mythology, a satyr (Greek: σάτυρος sátyros, pronounced [sátyros]), also known as a silenos (Greek: σειληνός seilēnós), is a male nature spirit with ears and a tail resembling those of a horse, as well as a permanent, exaggerated erection. Early artistic representations sometimes include horse-like legs, but, by the sixth century BC, they were more often represented with human legs. Like satyrs, centaurs were notorious for being wild, lusty, overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, violent when intoxicated, and generally uncultured delinquents.
I gained the ability to make others like myself.
It began to happen late in the second or third year since my blessing from the gods, my rebirth. My cock was over a foot long by that point, meaty and thick, my pendulous nads nearly the size of oranges -- even at 6’4” 245, they were out of proportion (I didn’t look anywhere near as freakish as I would’ve if I’d remained 5’9”, but I’d grown steadily since my blessing, so I looked like a really big guy with a REALLY big cock. Who knew where, or if it would end.) I was hairy and gruff, balding from too much testosterone, bearded and beautiful. And naked, I was spectacular. I would watch videos of myself having sex because it was so hot, my big, hairy muscle destroying some boy’s sweet pink hole.
My favorites were the little tops who thought they were gonna top me. I mean, imagine having a cock like mine and the guy still wants to fuck me? Like, I’d made some of the biggest Alpha males submit to me, reveled in turning them into big muscle bottoms, but there were particular guys -- usually wrestler/ MMA-grappler types -- who wouldn’t fall under the spell of my cock, whose sweat smelled manly, too, and just went forward with the foreplay as if I were some meaty bottom.
The first time it happened, it was this hot little Jersey boy, muscular and sexy with some sweet abs, probably 5’8” or 5’9”, tattoos, steroid scars on his back, skinny legs but a dick to die for. It tasted as pretty as it looked. “You gotta let me fuck you,” he growled. “With that cock, you probably never get fucked as good as you should. Lemme show you, baby…”
Eating my hole, he won me over -- fuck, I had to reward an enthusiast -- especially the way he buried his face in my hairy, sweaty crack, like he couldn’t get enough. I’d forgotten how good a dick up inside me felt -- I hadn’t bottomed since my blessing -- and I gotta say, Jersey-boy wasn’t as selfish with it as I thought he’d be. He knew how to fuck.
On my back, my huge legs spread wide, he stood next to the bed and pounded my hole, my own hard cock resting between the halves of my chest, inches from my chin, fairly leaking my pheromone-laden pre-cum -- even I was under my own spell. “God damn, you tight,” Jersey-boy muttered.
“Not damned,” I panted. “Blessed.”
“Gonna cum in your blessed hole…”
“Yes,” I moaned, placing my hands on either side of his head. “Yes. Give your offering…”
When he shot, driving his dick deep into me, his eyes rolled back in his head. In that moment, I felt -- not only my own orgasm -- I felt this energy leave me through my hands and enter him. I wish I could describe it better. It wasn’t like he took something from me -- it wasn’t like I gave him power -- it was more like I awakened something in him. Yet I felt that change in energy -- I was the cause of it. The catalyst.
When he opened his eyes, there was something there that hadn’t been before -- a glint, a lust. The corner of his mouth curled into a devilish smile and I felt his cock re-harden inside me, even harder than it had been, and he just started lust-fucking me.
What an incredible fuck that was -- the sudden power, the masculinity, the determination -- we were sweaty and breathless and oh, so hungry. I couldn’t even tell you how many times we came, how many moments of utter bliss we experienced -- how much energy we expelled and exchanged.
The cock he pulled out of me was nearly twelve inches long, with heavy, obvious balls to match. Twice as big as it had been before -- nowhere near as big as it would get -- it looked magnificently out-of-proportion with the rest of him. He loved it!
The next few weeks were a blurry fuck-fest. He matched me for sexual energy and desire -- his sweat was as irresistible, his personality as seductive -- everything we did, everywhere we went ended up an orgy. At the gym, working out together, watching the big straight bodybuilders fall under our spell, envying our big, gorgeous cocks. At the bars, dancing on the bars, they worshipped us, watching us strut and flex. At the bath-houses, where parties could extend into days, they gave us a never-ending supply of holes to fuck.
But after a few months, Jersey-boy began to bore me.
He was nothing but fucking. No thought, no drive, no interest, no appreciation -- all he cared about was how to put his cock in some guy’s hole. He didn’t need me -- he had his own circle of worshippers, of devotees -- his entourage. I still loved him -- I was bonded to him, my brother and my son; I could feel him wherever he was -- I just needed my freedom.
But it wasn’t long before I created others. The same basic type: the cocky, unrelenting top -- the guy who would insist on trying to fuck me, even after seeing my hypnotic cock. Through the years, I’d created about twenty of them -- same way, they’d fuck me and at the moment of their orgasm, I would give them the energy to open themselves to the Primal Force, their Masculine Power.
Like me, they grew -- muscularly, scrotally -- all their lusty appetites, but unlike me, they lost their reason, their love for anything but sex. They became this hyper-masculine, hyper-endowed, sexually-driven fraternity -- a herd of hairy, horse-hung men. Modern Day Centaurs.
They fucked with me -- around me -- the world became one never-ending sex party. I loved it, every moment of it, my constant libido, my unsatisfied hunger for sex -- to express sex -- to BE sex! With every fuck, with every orgasm, with every of my centaur’s orgasms, I became stronger. Worshipping the act of sex meant worshipping me.
For years it grew -- for years I reigned, continuing to grow. I weighed around 270 by my 40th birthday (52 left, I’d joke) and my cock was a magnificent thirty-inches long, half-hard and hanging like a heavy branch from a sturdy tree. My balls dangled like melons, their weight stimulating me more, producing so much testosterone that I just reeked of it.
Huge rings hung from my nipples -- another of the same size pierced my septum. (Many of the centaurs had pierced theirs -- cheap horse-symbolism, but still sexy.) I was magnificent. There was not a man who could resist me, not an enemy I couldn’t dominate -- I had the most powerful men in the world begging to serve me, willing to do anything to kneel before me -- the richest men in the world as my benefactors. And all they wanted was sex.
Me.
I was sex.
*********************************
Again, The Google:
Apotheosis (from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεόω/ἀποθεῶ, apotheoo/apotheo "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "making divine"; also called divinization and deification) is the glorification of a subject to divine level and, most commonly, the treatment of a human like a god. In theology, apotheosis refers to the idea that an individual has been raised to godlike stature.
It is the way of the gods to be apart from humanity, but desire to be a part of it. As I got older -- and bigger -- it became more and more difficult to move about in public. The year I turned 54 -- which coincidentally was the year I’d been elevated for as long as I’d been human, 27 years -- I was 6’5”, 290 muscular pounds, still as lean as a teen, with a cock that was nearly forty inches long and balls that hung nearly to my knee. I was graying, sure, but didn’t look my age in the face -- I looked like my Grandfather at the same age. The Daddy-thing worked in my favor.
I separated myself from the others. They never stopped -- they never expressed interest in anything other than carousing and fucking around. It was exhausting. There was no appreciation of arts or literature or the expression of creative thought -- everything was directed at sex. Everything.
After a while, I found myself bored, seeking more -- though what more could there be? I desired to travel, but travel was nearly impossible. Wherever I went, sex happened. My smell, my aura, whatever it was about me that men couldn’t resist, it didn’t stop -- I couldn’t turn it off. Obviously, I couldn’t fly -- ultimately, the pilot would be unable to resist the inevitable orgy that would happen and the plane would crash. Maybe if the pilot flew with an air mask? Who knows? To me, it wasn’t worth the try.
Fortunately, several of my benefactors had yachts -- massive, sprawling things that they were more than happy to offer me. In that way, I saw much of the world, spreading my seed all around the globe.
We were anchored off the shore of Mykonos and I was busy fucking my way through the height of the high season -- oh, the gorgeous gay men who summered in Mykonos -- when I heard rumor of another like me. One of the local boys, whose English was far better than my Greek -- together, we spoke the language of Lust -- told me that I reminded him of the stories he’d heard about a reclusive sex god who was said to live up the coast, on Mt. Pelion. An old man with a giant cock -- the stories said he pushed his cock around before himself on a cart -- his smell, like mine, was said to drive men wild with lust, enough to make them impale themselves on his huge penis until they were dead. It was a story locals told for generations, perhaps in an effort to keep the young men from playing in the many caves along the coast.
The boy told me this while impaling himself on my huge penis, so I wasn’t sure how much of it was porn-fantasy on his part. But I heard several corroborating stories over the next few weeks, so with little better to do, I had the captain sail us up the East Coast of Greece toward the Pelion Peninsula.
And there was someone -- I could feel him. The closer we got, passing the spectacular cliffs and inlets of this ancient coast, the more I became aware of him. This feeling reminded me of the bond between myself and the ones I’d created, the Modern Day Centaurs -- it had the same longingful pull. The call of sex.
I followed this call. Going ashore, dressed in linen pants and loafers, shirtless, my hairy beauty exposed to the world, I unerringly led myself up the mountain to the hidden door of a house nearly invisible in the mountainside of Mt. Pelion, as if someone had taken a cave and had Andrew Lloyd Wright develop it into a residence -- the old and the new melded seamlessly together.
An olive-skinned beauty opened the door, dressed only in a short linen skirt and sandals. He was spectacular, young and hairless, his pink, puffy nipples sitting atop his tight, muscular chest -- his pink, pouty lips ready to pleasure my cock. But he wasn’t the scent I sought.
“Geiá sou,” I said in my sorry Greek. “Eínai o kýrios sas?”
The boy smiled -- probably because of the way I butchered his language. “He is expecting you,” he said in perfect English, opening the door to bid me enter.
Again, walking through the house was like walking through a cave that had been made into a house, all the stone and slate, with the sleek, LCD lighting and hidden speakers piping in some old folk music -- it was the kind of place one saw on the Rich & Famous Real Estate shows, a little too over-the-top to be believed. NOTHING could’ve been this nice. How much money had this taken? How many years?
The boy walked before me, allowing me to view his spectacular ass -- it was hard to decide exactly what to look at, the house or the boy. We descended a short stairs and emerged into a grotto. It reminded me of the Ancient Public Baths, a large pool dominating the space, with several types of hot tubs adorning the circumference and a magnificent, raised dais on one end, almost like a pulpit, where a massive bed sat ready for use. This was the biggest-budget porn-set I’d ever seen -- as if Spielberg were shooting a Greek fuck-flick.
As we entered, the boy’s Master stood from the hot tub, his back to us, as two other olive-skinned beauties dressed him in a white, terry-cloth robe. He was nearly eight feet tall, massively muscular, though in proportion with his height, as if someone had taken a super-heavyweight bodybuilder and blew him up to 150%. An older man -- I would put him somewhere in his early sixties -- with salt-and-pepper hair that favored the salt, but long on top and shaved short on the sides -- his grooming was as meticulous as his house. He sported a beard that was a bit longer than mine, but oiled and maintained with an attention mine had never known. The robe didn’t hide the fact that he was hairy, but why wouldn’t he be? He was the perfect man.
The robe made no secret of his cock, either. Like mine, it jutted before him like an extra limb, continuously hard and heavy, ready for more. It had to be over three feet long, but the way the boys had placed it in the material, it was hard to be sure. I’d hoped to find out. Hardly the image of a withered old man with his cock on a cart.
When we made eye-contact, he smiled -- and in that moment, I recognized him. I didn’t know how -- not then -- but I knew who he was. I’d known him for thousands of years. “Oh my god,” I said. “Chiron!”
“Hello, Pholus,” he said in English, with a glorious accent, opening his muscular arms for a hug. “Welcome home!”
****************************************
You know the gag by now:
In Greek mythology, Chiron (/ˈkaɪrən/ KY-rən; also Cheiron or Kheiron; Greek: Χείρων "hand") was held to be the superlative centaur amongst his brethren, as he was called as the "wisest and justest of all the centaurs". Chiron was notable throughout Greek mythology for his youth-nurturing nature. His personal skills tend to match those of his foster father Apollo, who taught the young centaur the art of medicine, herbs, music, archery, hunting, gymnastics and prophecy, and made him rise above his beastly nature. Centaurs were notorious for being wild, lusty, overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, violent when intoxicated, and generally uncultured delinquents. Chiron, by contrast, was intelligent, civilized and kind, because he was not related directly to the other centaurs due to his parentage.
I couldn’t even tell you how long we fucked before we had a chance to talk. It felt like that sexual communication was almost as valuable as the verbal would be. His age was buffered by his confidence and his ability, his skillful love-making knew no bounds.
Our cocks were big enough to be inside each other as we faced one another, each fucking the other while we deeply kissed. “I’ve missed you,” he moaned as he shot yet another load into me. “It’s been too long…”
“I don’t understand,” I said while he thrusted himself on my hard pole. “This all feels so familiar.”
“There will be plenty of time for talk,” he said, bringing me to orgasm. “But first, we must be what we are.”
That first sexual coupling lasted nearly a full week. We fucked in the grotto, we fucked in the pool, we fucked in his bed, we fucked in a sling that was hung deep in the cavernous depths of the mountain. He showed me more ways to stimulate someone than I’d ever known -- or experienced! He was a master at pleasure.
“Well, I should be,” he said later, sitting upright against a massive pile of cushions. I sat with my back against him, in the crook of his arm -- we were smoking some of my best bud. “After all, I’ve been having sex for thousands of years. I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
“Thousands of years,” I mumbled, taking my hit. Then, upon exhalation I said, “So are you immortal?”
“Gods exist as long as people worship them,” he replied, taking the joint from me. “And fortunately, we’re gods of rutty, physical sex -- men will ALWAYS believe in that.” He kissed me deeply, sharing the hit he’d taken. Of course, he was a good kisser, too.
He had a staff of the most beautiful men, stunning examples all -- they bathed us and catered to us and fed us. I could feel their adoration and pride and… worship. I let it empower me.
The myths held some truths: Chiron was a teacher at heart. He told me everything. “Surely you’ve done some research,” he said, indicating the computer screen before us -- (when I made a joke about the Batcave, he didn’t get my reference, so he didn’t know EVERYTHING). “From the myth of Pholus, we get the phrase ‘shooting yourself in the foot’ -- did you know that?”
I shook my head and smiled.
“After Heracles finished his fourth labor, he was tasked with wiping out the centaurs. Their drunken, sexual carousing was proving too much for the local populace, so he came to Pholus’ cave here in Mt. Pelion — this very cave — to seek a special Dionysian wine to lure the centaurs out into the open. Ultimately, Heracles slew them all with arrows poisoned by the blood of the hydra. After the battle, Pholus, marvelling at the idea that so small a thing as an arrow could kill something as magnificent as a centaur, dropped the poison arrow on his foot, where it pierced his skin and killed him.”
“That’s what happened?” I asked.
“That’s the MYTH,” he said, taking another hit. “I love this stuff, marijuana. It’s rare that I have any -- I’ve lost my taste for what passes for wine nowadays.” He exhaled and passed back to me. After taking a moment to adjust his huge balls, he continued. “In fact, it wasn’t Heracles, it was a small armada fighting in Heracles’ name that wiped us out — again, time and telling change the story. And it was understandable -- we’d created too many. We got a little… trigger happy in our play -- there needs to be a balance.”
“Centaurs…?”
“Right! Well, obviously not men with the bodies of horses -- but you’ve seen what they become, what their COCKS become when we change them. Is it any surprise that they became known as ‘horse-men’ or ‘half-man/ half-horse’ to the people who are left to describe them? Mythology has a wonderful way of literalizing the traits of the gods. We are spirits of nature, sexual spirits, not animals -- organized religion has used that metaphor to death. They took our form and made it into their Satan! Yet still, our ways persist -- men still worship us -- religion or not, they put gnomes in their gardens, wards in their crops, they know that fertility IS sex, Nature’s sex -- when the gods are fertile, the land prospers -- we are linked.
“No, Heracles’ Armada wiped them out -- nearly all. I’d been hit in the battle and spent the next few months curing myself with herbs and medicines.” He showed me a scar on his thigh, barely evident after all this time. “Rumor had it I’d died -- that’s what the myth said, too -- but that wasn’t the case. I’d just gone into hiding. I WAS too late to help you, though,” he continued, rubbing my pec with the arm he had draped over my shoulder. “You were nearly gone by the time I got to you, so I… did what I could and preserved your essence.”
“Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it without getting all technical and metaphysical -- I don’t know if you’ll understand it, even then. Suffice it to say that through physics and arcane sorcery, I captured your essence in a form not unlike your favorite thing: Dionysian wine!” He chuckled then, kissing my head. “I was the one who bottled it and guarded it for several thousand years, waiting for the right man, until it was spirited away from me during one of the many wars of the former century. I didn’t know anything more about it until I heard about you on the internet -- my Pholus, come back to me!”
Kissing, kissing, always kissing.
“Someone sealed it inside a garden gnome,” I said. “It was in my grandfather’s garden. I honestly think it was meant for him -- his build, his attitude (maybe he was a centaur?) -- he had to have known about it. After his death, it was passed to me, where it Lorded over a bunch of marijuana plants until I broke it… and discovered…’
“Your destiny,” he said, grabbing my cock.
I stayed with him after that -- he claimed the cave was mine to begin with -- and allowed myself to be his apprentice, his pupil, his son, and his lover. He was trained in all the fine arts -- music, literature, theatre (he adored musicals!), the sciences, herbs, art. “This is what sets us apart from the beasts we make,” he said. “They cannot appreciate the finer things.”
He taught me the art of sex, techniques from people long-forgotten. We played daily with each other, the staff, the local boys, visitors who came just to worship -- it was a scene from the great erotic writers, sexual energy providing the energy for everything, from the ideas to the art to the power for life.
On my 92nd birthday, the same age as my grandfather when he’d passed, I was just-over seven feet tall -- still a foot shorter than Chiron -- but with a spectacular body and an unbelievable cock. I was vital, vigorous, and very horny. Chiron had re-grown the hair on my head -- he’d concocted some kind of (very) smelly salve, but it worked! After having been bald for most of my adult life, it was fun to have hair again as an “old” man. I certainly wasn’t was some kind of dried-up prune of a thing pushing my oversized cock before me on a cart, no matter what the stories said.
I found Chiron in the hot-tub, soaking in the bubbling water with his arms along the edge of the tub -- even from here, I could smell his scent. “There’s the birthday boy!” he said when he saw me.
I laughed. “Your favorite eccentric centaur has made his first complete lap around the sun,” I said, standing in the waist-deep water so my giant cock floated just below the surface, like a small shark.
“Then you’re really just a one year old, right?” he asked. “That sounds like a good average -- one year for you equals ninety-two for everyone else. So you’ll be around 8,400 when you’re REALLY 92.”
I laughed. “And they say I’M the eccentric one,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him.
“I’m saying immortality requires a different mindset.” He began to rub the tip of my cock, right beneath the glans -- of course it started to harden. Horny old fuck.
I bent forward and kissed him. “So, what’s next?” I asked.
“Travel, I think. I should like to see the world! I’ve never been to the Americas, your former home -- and we should see how your centaurs are getting along. I’m curious.”
“You’re just horny,” I said, toying with his cock as he teased mine.
He chuckled in our kiss. “Eternally,” he said.
We began our normal day -- we fucked -- and we made our plans.
***********************************************
We leave tomorrow and have been fucking our goodbyes through the local populace. Our personal staff will travel with us and we have people to watch the cave (not that we expect any trouble -- even the worshippers are dedicated and respectful) and of course everything is connected to everything now, so communication is hardly in the Age of Homer, trying desperately to reach Ithaca.
I plan to visit my grandfather’s grave and bury the little stone icon of the muscular man with the giant penis there to honor him. He watched over it for so many years in life, I’d like it to watch over him in death. I will thank him too, properly, for the gift he gave me.
That’s the purpose of this story, I suppose -- to honor my grandfather. I’ve taken much of the last week writing it -- to help organize my thoughts -- and I’ve struggled with its theme. Chiron has read it and thinks it’s just fine as it is. “Let it speak for itself,” he said. “You Americans and your obsession with plot. It’s a symbolic piece -- it requires more thought than what’s happening in the plot. Let it be.”
And so I do. This is my story -- this is what happened when Pholus was reborn.
Thank you, Big Red.

Metal muscle part three
Metal cabin crash
The four middle-age men were playing cards and drinking. Ryan, Paul, Huber, and Lee were all drunk and ready to pass out. As the fireplace began to dim all four men suddenly felt a cold wave of fear and a sense of doom, but that was the only warning they had as the cabin door was forcibly slammed open. The wooden chips shattering everywhere, peppering the four men. Then four huge 8 feet tall metal muscular men stepped through the demolished cabin door, destroying some of the doorframe as they passed through. Each man was overcome by a supernatural wave of fear, causing them to pee their pants.
The four sons of Emperor maximum did not wait for these four men to overcome their fear. The first metal man went up to Huber whose back was closest to the destroyed cabins door. With a strong grip the metal man yanked Huber, onto the floor, dislocating his arm in the process. Then swiftly one by one Huber’s arms and legs were broken each making a snapping sound as Huber screamed in pain as the metal man stopped on them. The screams of the pudgy Huber snap others from their feared induced shock but by then it was too late for the other metal men were upon, each yanking them off their chairs and crushing their limbs preventing them from resisting. The sons of Emperor maximum grabbed their victim’s pants and slowly transmuted it into metal.
Once the victim’s pants and undergarments became metal it flowed into the metal men revealing the victims naked lower half flaked with bits of metal that were slowly spreading on the skin. Each of the victim’s broken limb began to heal but as they did so metal began to spread slowly covering the broken area. Huber’s arms and legs no longer hurt but now felt heavy and limp. A string feeling was coming from his arms and legs, he tried to lift his right arm only the fine it not responding. When Huber with a tiered full glanced at his right hand, saw and felt the metal slowly spreading from the spot that was broken by this man covered in metal. He drunkenly realizes that he was turning into a metal man. He and his other friends try to resist as each of their legs spread out. Huber saw his metal assailant smiling with the evil grin and glowing red eyes as he felt his virgin ass hole being stuffed by his assailant monsters metal cock.
At First Huber felt pain as his fat ass was being stuffed but then that pain transformed into pleasure. He started to feel the metal man move his hips back and forth pulling and plunging his fat metal cock in Huber’s fat ass. Huber could feel corruption spreading across his body slowly changing him. Huber couldn’t resist the pleasurable metallic corruption as he was one of the first to praise the name of Emperor maximum, and with those words spoken Huber’s cock already hard because of the pleasure began to fatten and swell as it was being coded in metal. “By Emperor maximum please keep stuff your hard-fat metal cock into this fat pig’s ass.” Hubert said As He squealed and panted in pleasure.
Huber and his friend’s transformation started to pick up. Huber’s fat pudgy body began to swell and harden with growing muscles as metal started to completely cover him. First, he started to stretch out growing tall and tell reaching 8 feet. Then his chest began to widen out words as his pecs started to harden and balloon out pushing his nipples downwards. Bursting his shirt as it slowly became metal and was the absorbed by Huber’s growing body. His neck thickened with muscle; his biceps swelled with growth; His thighs grew until they were larger than tree trunks; His pudgy belly transformed into a huge muscle gut, and as his face was covered in metal his jaw squared out his face became more hard and his eyes turned red. Huber’s body was now completely covered in metal, with no hair insight and extremely muscular.
The newly changed Huber moaned as he said, “that the spot,” has he felt his brother of Emperor maximum thrusting began to speed up. Huber grabbed his hard-throbbing metal cock and started to rub it in the rhythm with his partner. Several moments later Huber felt hot metallic cum blast up his ass, and a couple seconds later he came shooting there metallic cum all over himself. Huber felt the cock in his beefy metal ass leave as his partner stood up. When Huber got up from the floor, he saw that most of his friends were converted into huge muscular metal men. Lee was resisting the blessing of Emperor maximum but his will was a waning as half of his once skinny body was covered in metal. The rest of the sons of Emperor maximum surrounded the prone Lee, as his ass was being fucked. Lee tried to plead with his friends. but it fell on deaf ears. The presence of the other metal men began to speed up Lee’s conversion. Lee moaned and then roared as his muscles grew and metal covered the rest of his skin. Several seconds later the man that was Lee panted as his hot metallic cum was reabsorbed back into his metallic skin.
Once there were four sons of Emperor maximum now, they were eight. It did not take Ryan, Paul, Huber, and Lee, very long to slowly lose their memories of being human. Their human names no longer meeting anything to them as the sons of Emperor maximum had little of their past lives. Then they heard the voice of the Crystal heart. “Yes, my little brothers spread the blessings of our father Emperor maximum. Once I nearly claimed this world in the name of our father, but 12 Shaman stopped me. This time I will not do this alone, And I will not stop until this world is covered in metal and every man praises the name of our father Emperor maximum.”

Metal muscle part two
breaking and entering
Samuel Fornes woke up from the sounds of his wife Grace Fornes screaming. Causing Samuel to send up, he might be Old, but no one will hurt his Grace. Samuel saw three pairs of malevolent red eyes and suddenly he knew fear. Before he could muster up the strength to act, he was grabbed and yanked off of his bed. The vice like grip on his shoulder hurt like hell, as he felt a huge cold hand grab his left arm crushing it.
Samuel cried out after felt his bones from his left lower arm break. His shoulder was not spared as well as he heard the snapping sound. He heard deep grunts of laughter at his pain. Samuel thought what kind of monsters have invaded my home. Then he felt two hands grab both of his legs, slowly crushing them. Samuel screaming in pain as his bones were being crushed, nearly passed out when he felt a jolt. Then he was lifted up by two arms, belly facing the ceiling and his back facing the floor, failing to use his good arm to escape. When he felt himself crashing down on his assailant’s knee breaking his back with a loud snap.
Grace started to scream when she heard her husband’s back being broken. She couldn’t see anything as she tried reaching for the lamp, only to find that the lamp did not turn on when she twisted the knob. Then suddenly she a felt a big hand grab the back of her neck lifting her off her bed, she could barely breathe. Then slowly the room began to light up as the monster who was holding the back of her neck and her lifted up in the air had a glowing lightbulb and its other hand. She saw two huge extremely muscular metal skin man with red eyes completely bald and had wicked grins on their strong faces. Then she saw a broken Samuel on the floor ignoring the fact that the metallic skin men’s huge cocks were erect. To her horror she saw metal slowly covering her husband’s skin.
When the metal completely covered Samuels skin he began to grow with metallic muscles. First his body became more defined and trim melting away his jelly belly. Then he began to swell all over with muscle causing his nightgown to tighten and stretch showing off the growing muscles beneath. Eventually his nightgown began to tear showing off his new metal muscular back, then his pants legs showing off some of his huge muscular thighs. Then his striped nightshirt’s sleeves completely burst off showing off his huge veiny biceps as he slowly got up from the floor. With a deep roar he completely destroyed his favorite nightgown. When he turned around Grace saw her husband was now 8 feet tall had, huge beefy pecs, was erect, had Mental skin and had glowing red eyes with a strong square jaw.
Samuel walked slowly towards his wife reaching out with his new huge metallic right hand cupping her right cheek. Samuel saw that she was scared with tears in her eyes and a look of pleading hope for her husband to recognize her. Samuel gave her a warm smile and a look of recognition. Grace calm down a little at the site of her husband’s signature smile but her face turned to horror as she felt herself getting stabbed by Samuel whose left hand form into a giant mental knife. Rather than bleed to death she felt metal slowly crept all over her body devouring her and slowly flowing back into Samuel.
When Samuel was done consuming his wife, he felt powerful. His hand returned to normal and as one of his new brother who is holding the ones glowing lightbulb crushed it with one hand. The three sons of maximum came up to Samuel and began to feel his new huge metal muscle body. Closing his eyes, he felt his body being fondled. He felt every lick, every squeeze and he liked it. He loved the look in grace’s eyes as he stabbed her. He loved how his bones were broken and reformed. he going to love breaking the bodies men with his muscular arms and legs and see them be reborn as the sons of maximum. He began to masturbate grabbing his huge hard metal cock with his huge right hand and began to rub it. Moaning and grunting at all of the worship of his new metal muscular body.
He felt a thick tongue on his muscular back, his huge thigh and left flexing bicep. Eventually he came shooting his thick metallic cum from his huge fat veiny cock. Then all of them heard the voice of the Crystal heart.” They are four more men around to the east of here. Conquer in the name of Emperor maximum.” All four of them could see in the dark all four them could sense life in the unchanged.

Metal muscle part one
The crystal heart
Theodore Copper and his friends/roommate Jackson Stars were just returning home with their nerdy friend, Miles Towers with a heavy chest, that they found in the woods. Once they made room on their table. All three of them lifted the heavy chest onto the table and as they did the old rusty lock fell apart, allowing them access to its contents. Jackson out of blatant curiosity open the chest, to the exhausted protests of Theodore and Miles. Inside the chest was a red crystal heart, not a crystal in a 2-D heart-shaped, it was a literal crystal in the shape of a human heart with veins.
The beauty of this crystal heart enthralled, all three of them, who simply stare at it, even while it started to glow and beat, and as it did their hearts began to beat and rhythm with it. Every second Theodore, Jackson and Miles began to feel their hearts crystallize. Each of them falling on to the floor as blood no longer flew through their veins. Then like magic, there newly crystallize hearts began to beat and as it did a metal substance began to flow in their bodies. There veins darkened as the magic of Emperor Maximum started to change them into his metal men, his soldiers, his servants, his children. All three of their souls were heated, crushed and remade, in the image of Emperor Maximum.
Every beat of the crystal heart pump liquid metal in their veins, which eventually led into their internal organs. Anything that the liquid metal blood touched became living metal. When it reached their bodies muscle system then the magic started to kick into gear. Each of their right pec was the first to swell with new growth as the skin slowly turned into a type of flexible silver metal. Each beat of their hearts causes them to grow with metal muscle. There shirts and pants started to become tight as patches of skin turned into metal. Each of them grew taller until they each reached 8 feet. Their bodies widening and growing to compensate for the new growth.
There once flat chest began to balloon with muscle. There left pec quickly caught up to the growing right pec as both kept growing with size and girth. All three of their bellies began to develop abs, but Miles belly was already fat, so it simply ballooned out. While Theodore and Jackson’s belly developed a hard eight pack abs of steel while Miles was developing a metal muscle gut. Their legs and arms were already started to tone as their wastes widen and trimmed. There thighs swell with muscle like growing tree trunks. Their strain clothes began to rip and tier, revealing their swelling muscular metal skin. There shoes burst from their huge growing metal feet as their shredded shirts and pants completely fell off of their huge hard muscular metal bodies. With Veins full of liquid metal pumping into the huge biceps and lower arms, making them grow freakishly huge. Eventually their metallic blood reached their cock and balls, causing their cocks to become hard, as its swell with girth as liquid metal covered their cocks and growing balls. Their jaws squared out; their noses became more blunt, there eyebrows became more pronounced, and their faces became more harder. All their hair was gone, and their eye became red and the white of their eyes turned black.
The three son the maximum got up from the floor using their new strength. Each of them trying to remember who they are. “Is that you Miles” Theodore said as he began to walk towards the changed Miles, who was now huge, like a heavyweight bodybuilder with a case of muscle gut. Theodore placed his right huge metal hand on one of Miles huge muscular metal shoulder. Miles shoulder felt strangely soft, hard, firm and strong. Theodore came closer to Miles as he so did, so he begin to fondle miles huge metallic pecs. Meanwhile, Jackson began to walk towards Theodore’s huge muscular metallic back, with swagger.
Miles love the feeling of Theodore rubbing his huge pecs. He loved it when Theodore started touching and rubbing his metal nipples. Miles hands drifted towards the sides of Theodore’s huge thighs, eventually drifting towards Theodore’s muscular metal ass. Jackson began to feel Theodore strong back, feeling all of crevices of Theodore’s back muscles. Theodore stopped fondling miles pecs as miles began to fondle Theodore’s huge metallic arms starting with his shoulders. Miles,” with those metal guns you can properly bend metal.” “More like breaks some bones.” Theodore said with an evil grin eyes glowing red. Miles had a look of concern for a second then his eyes glowed as well, and then he had an evil smile, he said.” With this tool,” Miles pointed to his thick hard metallic cock. “I could spit roast a man to death. Better yet I could break his back with a thrust of my cock, and with my balls, I could smash a person’s ass to dust.”
All three of them stopped and looked confused. Their actions didn’t feel normal or like themselves. But as the influence of Emperor maximum grew their attitudes change. Jackson did a double bicep pose and said. “With these guns, I bet I could probably rip a man’s arms off all by myself.” Theodore with enthusiasm said,” I could probably rip a man in half, with mine,”. Miles grabbed his hard metal cock and began to rub it in pleasure at the thought of his masculinity at the thought of crushing things with his huge metallic muscles at the thought of men being broken by his muscles. Living, dead and broken men will become the sons of maximum. This world will belong to Emperor maximum. Theodore and Jackson also began to masturbate. As the thoughts of Emperor maximum completely took hold over all three of them. Eventually miles came, then Theodore and finally Jackson spilling their hot metallic seed everywhere. The thoughts of conquest on their minds.

A lonely small-town Part five
the big bad ogres
Owen smiled as his plan came to fruition. Benjamin and his gang had fulfilled their bargain. He had to admit that the plan could have completely failed, he was not expecting the police to look for Benjamin as a suspect for the disappearance of Officer Carrick, or that one of the teachers at their high school would be suspicious of Benjamin’s and his friends activities and all those witnesses. But at the end of the day had all he wanted and more. Benjamin and his friends were already his, but the other ones were not he will have to process the people that Benjamin and his friends have captured. Owen had the Carrick prepare cells for his guests as prepared to teleport them.
Owen, Michael and Carrick were walking to the place designated for the teleport, with Luke and Johnny carting six medium size chest of gold. Owen said, “there are four nerds: Bob, Timmy, Jeff and, Billy each with specialties that I would like to cultivate allowing me to focus on our next targets. The big bad boys have captured a few other humans as well, one of them being Timmy’s brother named Jason, the math teacher Mr. Noah is useless but I’ll simply his math skills. Noah is to manipulative and has no loyalty, He would do more harm than good, as a powered or focus ogre. Therefore, Mr. Noah will have to be turned into a basic type ogre. The two homeless people will have to be scanned to see the any potential. Finally, there is Benjamin’s mother, I will sacrifice her to the great father and blessed mother.”
“You Michael will have Jason. Think of it as your final test. With the goal of turning him into a focus type ogre. Carrick you will escort our prisoners to our cells. Then you will return to the teleport site. By the time you return Benjamin’s and his friends should be turned into ogres and they should be turning the rest of our prisoners into ogres as well. You will insert your dominance on Tommy and by extension his gang. Luke and Johnny will watch our guests wall I perform the sacrifice.”
The group of ogres reached the site that Owen designated for teleporting for his prize, Owen began the teleporting ritual. In the sudden flash a group of people appeared, six people standing with nine people tied up. The 20-year-old Tommy and 19-year-old Benjamin walked towards Owen, Tommy should have been panicking or starstruck that the site of five towering hairy muscle beast, but as Owen plan Tommy thought all was well and that he would be receiving his gold. The drink that Owen tricked Benjamin to give to him and his friend, worked like a charm. Owen could feel they are mines as they are wills slowly became his and as their humanity slowly degrade. Benjamin introduced Tommy to Owen as Owen gave Tommy a handshake. Tommy, “I didn’t believe Benjamin went told me that he was kidnapped by ogres but when you send him that gold my ears perked up. We have brought you the people you wanted and more.” Owen smiled, “And for that you will be handsomely rewarded.” Luke walked up and opened an ornate chest with six bronze keys.
Owen smiled as he said, “each of those keys opens a chest full of gold, one for each of your gang members.” Tommy was reaching his hand out towards the ornate chest with keys, when Luke close the ornate chest.” Of course, I have to check the prisoners. I have to make sure that you and your gang members got the people I was looking for.” Owen said with a smile and a stern look. Owen walk towards the kneeling prisoners. First one he walked towards was Bob, He was blindfolded. Owen grabbed Bob’s head, With his huge hairy right hand and glimpsed Bob’s mind.
Owen smiled as he found a hacker or really a computer programmer one who wasn’t half bad. Then he went to Timmy and read his mind. Timmy resisted Owens mental probing then the end, he succumbed. Owen continued with Jeff then body finding them to be useful. Owen beckoned Carrick and Johnny to come over with the huge cart. Carrick began to pick up the first four prisoners that Owen scanned and placing them in the huge cart as Luke began handing out the locked metal chest to Tommy’s gang. Michael went up to the tide up Jason and lifted him over his huge hairy shoulders and left, heading towards a refurbish a building. Owen went up to Noah, who was a scrawny man with black hair, big long nose and lazy light blue eyes.
Owen extracted all of Noah math skills and education, he will still remember his skills for now, but when Tommy gets to him, that will change. Then Owen went towards the first of the two homeless people. He found that Andrew had some skills which Owen extracted finding Andrew to be a useless alcoholic because his wife died in a car accident. Theodore on the other hand was alcoholic as well and schizophrenic, making it hard for him to hold down a job. Once these two become ogres their mines will reset but some of their based personalities traits will remain. Finally, without can, Owen went towards Benjamin’s mother and gently pick her up taking her towards one of the destroyed buildings. As Owen walked past, he gave a nod to Luke, who started handing out keys to the metal chest filled with gold. Then Luke sprinkled dust onto the prisoners as he went behind them and pulled off their blindfolds.
When the kneeling Tommy with a greedy smile open the chest box containing gold. A flash of golden light shine all over him and his gang, pushing Tommy back on his ass. Tommy and his friends suddenly felt extremely horny as their mines began to fog up. First hair began grow all over their bodies as each grew different types of facial hair Tommy grew a royal beard, Billy mutton chop beard, Benjamin a goatee, Leo chin strap, Jack a circle beard and hunter a normal beard. Then they began to grow. First, there hairy feet, lengthening and widening and tell their shoes burst in half than snap off as their lower legs grew. When they had huge wide meaty calves than their thighs size began to grow with muscles and tell they were larger than tree trunks, making their pants and shorts tear off of them, revealing their huge hairy defined thighs. There ass was not spared from the growth, and at this point their shredded destroyed pants and shorts were barely hanging on. Each of their erect cock began to swell in the length and tell they reach 10 inches as their hairy balls began to swell out to the size of large oranges. There chest, back and hips widening as they began to grow taller which caused them to show hairy bellies. Then their upper bodies began to grow with muscles befitting ogres. First, there chest began to pack on muscles, causing their shirts to stretch out. Then their hairy pecs balloon out with muscle, causing some of their shirts to tear near the neckline and others to be stretched out near bursting. All of their hairy arms begin and to grow as well, putting even more strain on their clothes. Tommy’s already having four pack abs began to feel hairy belly crunch and swell with muscle finally making his shirt stretch to its lament as his huge biceps and shoulders grew to the new huge size, his shirt and pants completely fell off in shredded tatters. While Billy with his new huge arms, grabbed his tight shirt and ripped it off of him revealing his huge hairy muscular chest and huge hairy belly. Benjamin with his shirt and pants shredded, and on the ground and with one huge hand grabbed his tight boxer briefs and yanked it off, freeing his huge fat cock and balls. Leo being the already muscular before his transformation became larger than the rest of his friends, with his huge wide hairy muscular back so defined that it looks like wings were pressed to it. Jack and the rest of the gang’s necks began to thicken as they are shoulders grew out and their triceps to grow tall and tell they look like they necks were gone. At this point their jaws squared out, their canines sharpening, and skin thickening as all of them skin turned orange but Billy’s instead his already brown skin turning darker shade of brown.
Once they were six human men now stood six hairy extremely muscular ogres exuding masculinity. Each with huge basketball size biceps, quarter size nipples pointing down and horny as hell. Tommy’s and his friend’s mines were forever changed each seeing ogres as sexy beast. It was then that the changed Tommy heard groans and then got up turned around only see another ogre with a brown beard and short brown hair, having fun with a blow job with one of the prisoners as right in front of their eyes. They didn’t even notice Noah and Theodore and their sexual bliss. The man started to grow bursting from his ragged clothes, revealing huge hairy muscle beast with a huge hairy plump belly and delectable ass. This site of a man turning into a sexy ogre caused Tommy and his gang of friends to come, shooting hot, sticky stream of cum all over Noah and Theodore. Whose mouths were open through panting as ogre musk enveloping them. With their mouths receiving the gang’s hot ogre cum, they began to change.
Noah and Theodore began to swell with muscle and fat. They are clothes began stretch and then tighten as their minds began to be crushed and twisted. Their skin turned orange as their clothes began to stretch apart from showing newly growing muscles. There physical and magical findings fell apart as they gain new strength. There chest widen out to the point that Tommy’s and his gang could see huge meaty pecs and six pack abs. But then they are bellies began to swell the skewering their patents. Then they got up shutting their old human clothes, revealing their huge fat erect cock and their huge round balls. There are jaws squared out their eye problems became more pronounced and their nose became bulleted giving them a brute like look. Hair started to pepper all over their muscular bodies giving Noah a beard and making Theodore’s reach his huge hairy pecs.
The two newly changed ogres had a blank lusty look to them as they came spelling their hot cum on the ground. The smell of ogre musk and lust was potent. Then Tommy felt something slip around his thick neck as he felt a hot breath behind his neck making him feel horny all over again. Two thick muscular began to wrap around Tommy’s hairy body feeling and his new ogrish muscles causing him to moan in pleasure as he felt a fat hard cock near his ass. Then Tommy heard a deep growth voice,” yeah you make a fine ogre punk. But I’m going to have to teach you who’s boss around here.” With those words Carrick thrust his fat cock in Tommy’s hungry ass, making him growl in pleasure as the other ogres began to have sex.

A lonely small-town part four
every chieftain’s means an enforcer
links to the other parts are at the bottom
Owen smiled at Michael’s question, “why don’t we just fuck them.” Owen said, “because we want them to be useful. Therefore, if you just plowed the prisoners, they wouldn’t gain any magical abilities and they may lose useful knowledge. Luke and Johnny are more basic because I let my musk fried their brains so that they would be more obedient. Magic requires more independent thoughts. Just me fucking them would turn them into an extremely basic ogre. The milk is important for prep, it helps me in print their purpose and allows them some independent actions. It would be easy to simply make them drink some of my cum and watch them turn. But I’m planning to give him a purpose.” “It was my purpose,” Michael asked. “You purpose is to be my electrical worker. Me giving you powers was an experiment,” Owen said.
Owen grabbed a bucket, as he explained his plan. “I’m thinking that we feed them are milk for a couple of days, to prime our officer for his transformation. Plus, this should give me time to imbue him with magic.” Michael said, “you are saying that you just can’t give people magic freely.” No Owen said,” it takes time to grow the magic and split off from me, plus if I were to give it recklessly, they may turn against me and kill me.” Michael looked at Owen and said, “I would never kill you. you gave me this awesome gift.” Michael lifted his right muscular arm as lightning coursed around it. Owen,” the more powerful magic or complex magic I give for this transformation, the more independent they will be. Look at Luke and Johnny,” both ogres turned to face the two other ogres having sex on the stage in the common room. Then Owen and Michael turned their faces back toward each other.” I could have them stop at any time and do work for me or even commit suicide, but you Michael would resist that command.”
“So, the more magical ogres I make. The more I must make sure that I am the dominant ogre. If you were to decide to make more ogres Michael. You could attract unwanted attention. Because I do not know how many humans still have magic, and it the descendants of the witch who bound me here still have magic in their blood. Well the best outcome would be banished back to my home world.” Michael looked at Owen with curiosity as he grabbed a bucket and said,” you’re from another world”,” yes” Owen said. “I was just a lonely ogre until I was summoned here to Earth, but I was, to cunning to be bound. Now Michael concentrate your power into your pecs then nipples.” Michael watched Owen’s muscular pecs inflated, as they started to produce milk. Michael closed his eyes as he concentrated his power into his pecs then nipples. He felt his pecs start to inflate with milk. “Good,” Owen said, as Michael opened his eyes.
Owen grabbed his right nipple and squeezed, making milk come out. “By us giving our prisoners are milk. We prep them for their transformation, and if we want magical infusion. After”, Michael squeezed his right nipple producing his chocolate milk he said. “You gave me electric powers what powers or you planning to give to them.” Owen finishing his milking his left nipple smiled at Michael. “I’m planning to transform the cop into my enforcer, to make sure when I make more magical ogres. That I can control them, because as I said the more magical or complex the powers the more independent, they will be, and some powers I give them will make them uncontrollable with my direct will. If they were to be let loose, they can cause people to notice us, and my magic has limits.”
Owen moved his left hand an around and said, “this town may be my prison but is also my domain.” Michael watched as Owen’s thick hairy pecs, re-inflated after he milk them dry. Then Owen began to milk himself again.” My domain is a source of a chunk of my power, and although through the help of Luke and Johnny. I was able to transport you and bless you. Magic can’t create everything. By transforming people into ogres, my reach expands, especially the more magical power I give to an individual ogre. Michael that’s enough,” as Michael went down to grab a second bucket. Owen smiled, “with his three buckets of his milk. We have a plenty enough of milk to corrupt our officer.”
Officer Carrick Cooper was trapped in a cage naked, with Benjamin the punk 17-year-old sharing his fate in a separate cage. He was checking up on Johnny Comepie to see if he knew the whereabouts of Luke Wen. Instead he was captured by two huge hairy muscle beast who were over 10 feet tall. Those monsters even grabbed the kid. He didn’t know what they did to the water, but it tasted funny. For some reason there was a large mirror on one side of the cage. Carrick use to had, short red hair, a mustache a little bit of chest hair. But as soon as one of those muscle monsters gave him a cup of something that looks like chocolate milk. His hair began to grow. His once clean-shaven face had a full on unkept red beard, his short hair grew out, his chest hair became a red pelt, his arms and legs mostly naturally hairless started to be covered with a growth of red hair, and his dreams once pure became gay and pervy.
Carrick couldn’t stop masturbating after he had drinking the second cup of milk, but he couldn’t resist. He felt guilty of this sin, and of his thoughts of having sex with hot thick hairy men.
After the third day of feeding the cop the corruptive milk. Owen and Michael went down to check on their captives. Benjamin saw two more hairy muscle beast at his cage, one was oranges with black hair brown eyes and had a bushy mustache and sharp sideburn, with a hairy muscle gut and while the other one had dark chocolate skin, dark brown eyes, A bushy beard, with a mohawk, with blue markings on his body, and was extremely muscular with eight pack abs and was hairy with short curly black hair. Then the one with the mustache waived his right arm and said my name is “Owen” in a strange deep accent. “What do you want from me Owen,” Benjamin said with a sneer? Owen replied, “to see if you have any value to me.” Owen’s face turned towards the cage which holding the cop, who Benjamin could see was now hairy and crazed as he saw the cop’s green eyes.
Owen smiled as he pointed at the cop and said. “This one will make a good sacrifice giving me more power and a good feast”. Benjamin blanched at the thought of being eaten by these big hairy cannibals. Owen gave an evil grin, “course you can avoid this fate by offering to be useful to me by telling me everything you know.” For the next several minutes Benjamin on his knees and tears in his eyes begged, threatened, and blathered about how important he was and how he may help Owen. Owen phrase his right hand then Benjamin became silent with fear of Owen’s decision. Then Owen turned his palm up to the sky then in a flash a bucket with a brush appeared. Owen looked at Benjamin said, “I’m going to ask you a few questions, depending how these turn out will decide your fate.”
Owen’s first question was, “you said that you belong to a gang if so, how many members you have and, what is this gang called.” “we are called the big bad boys, there are five members me, Tommy, Billy, Leo, and Jack.” “Good “Owen said as he nodded his head.” “My second question, what are these people you call nerds?” Benjamin muttered, “They name, Bob, Timmy, Jeff, Bobby.” “My third question, tell me more about these nerds?” Benjamin told Owen everything he knew about Bob and others he and his gang bullied. Owen smiled at the news that Benjamin told him. “My fourth question Owen said. If I were to offer you gold for you and your gangs services, would you take it.” Benjamin nodded his head in approval of the idea. Good Owen said, “as he came to a decision. This is what you will do. When I return you to your town, you will find your gang.” Then Owen with his left hand teleported a barrel, “you will have them drink this barrel of liquid. Note that they only need a cup of this liquid. Then you offer them gold to kidnap Bob and his friends and bring them to me.” With his right-hand Owen summoned a small bag of gold and revealed its contents to Benjamin. Benjamin’s eyes widened with greed and he nodded yes.
Owen smiled as he snapped his fingers and Benjamin’s close returned to him. “First thing you’ll need is this,” and with another snap his fingers. A mug appeared before Benjamin’s eyes. “You will need to drink this so that the ring of hypnosis will not affect you.” With some trepidation Benjamin grabbed the floating mug and drink it and impressed by Owens power. Benjamin thought being on Owens good side would make him rich. Owen closed and dropped the small bag of gold, as he made his hands into fists and turned his hands revealing his palms and to items. A golden ring with a glass gem sticking out and a golden chain necklace with a blank tag on it. “This ring will allow you to hypnotize people, by pointing the glass gem at a person you can make them do things you want. It doesn’t last very long, and you can’t make them kill themselves or others. The necklace allows things to go smoothly and by tapping it to a mirror you can contact me.”
Then Owen said, “palms up” as he placed his big hands through the bars of the cage. The cage moved around Owens arms making oval shape. Benjamin had his palms out as Owen dropped the two items in his hand. Benjamin immediately put the two items on. Then Owen pulled his hands out of the cage and snap his fingers and the barrel shrank into a flask. Then Owen summoned a bag and placed the flask and small bag of gold in it. “I almost forgot” Owen said with a grin. “If you betrayed me or telling anyone about me, I will kill you, and don’t think you can trick me or that I wouldn’t know if you tell someone. I’m going to give you two weeks to get me those people that I want.” Then the bars on the cage parted making a man size oval shape, as Benjamin walked out.
Owen handed Benjamin the bag of supplies and smiled, with a snap of Owen’s thick fingers Benjamin was gone. Michael said, “do you think that the kid will come through.” Owen looked at Michael and said, “he will. When I gave him that drink, he slowly turning into an ogre which will allow me to enforce my will on him, his mind at first then his body at a slower rate, and that drink I told him to give his friends will slowly turn them into ogres and eventually make their way here. The necklace will allow me to implant orders into them without them realizing it. Allowing to gain my strength back and a chance for you and our office here. The chance to convert them into ogres. Don’t worry about giving them purpose I already implanted a purpose into them.”
Owen summoned a chair for Michael to sit on. “I’m going to show you how to convert others into ogres. Owen grabbed the bucket with the brush and turned to face the cage with Carrick in it. As I said before, if we just fuck them without preparation they’ll lose most if not all of their memories, by drenching them with our musk we prep them for this transformation allowing us to select certain attributes we want. Once you or more powerful you can choose to imprint a personality of your choosing. Of course, are milk kind it is the same thing but allows us to add to type of attribute like magic, strength, intelligent and/or other skills or abilities.” Owen was now in front of the cage that Carrick was in and took off his loincloth to reveal his fat 10-inch-long cock and huge balls the size of large oranges. Michael unzipped his pants revealing his fat 12-inch-long cock and huge balls that also the size of large oranges and began to rub it in anticipation.
Carrick was drooling at the site of these two hairy muscle beasts. The one with the black mustache and sideburns said my name is “Owen, and I know what you want”. As he grabbed his fat cock and squeezed causing some precum to ooze out. Carrick tried to grab Owen’s fat juicy cock, but he was too far away from the cage. Owen smiled at his prison, turned his face to Michael and said. “After a couple days of milk, he’s desperate for our cocks. The longer we make him wait the more lustful he becomes. I want him to be bound to me and order for me to do this I need him to willingly serve me. Too early and they will have a lot more autonomy and if we wait too long, they become extremely dependent on me. This is the perfect time turned him into an ogre.” Owen turned his face back to the last craze Carrick.
Owen asked, “Carrick, are you willing to serve me, are you willing to submit and obey me.” Carrick gave a nod and said, “yes master,” then the cage opened up and Carrick came out with his hard-throbbing erect cock. Owen commanded Carrick to turn around, and as he did, he felt a slash as his red back hair fell off his pale skin. Owen began to paint a chain symbol on Carrick back. Each paint stroke made Carrick moan in pleasure. When Owen was done painting on Carrick’s back, he turned around in your and began to lick and suck at Owen’s fat cock. Owen moan in pleasure as Carrick was ravenous in his work. The green chain symbol on Carrick back began to glow brighter the closer Owen was near his climax. Owen beckoned Michael to come and joined. Owen in pleasure said, “to Michael, this one is going be strong one, as he pointed at the glowing green chain symbol on Carrick back. When I hit my climax, it will be your turn to tag in.”
Michael stopped rubbing his cock as he saw Owen straightened out and saw his balls clenched up as he moaned out loud, as he came. Carrick greedily drink all of his master Owen’s delicious tasting cum, but he was still thirsty for ogre cum. Owen moved over as Michael replaced him to feed Carrick some delicious ogre cum. Like before Carrick sucked and licked at Michael’s fat cock. Owen went behind Carrick waiting for him to begin his transformation. “Once his done transforming he will want ass, Michael.” As Carrick sucked on Michael’s fat cock, he began to change mentally. He knew he had power, and he knew that he was losing some of his memories. He knew that he could stop he would be free from these sexy hairy muscle beast’s influence forever. But he tried to stop but the taste was so good. As Michael was near his climax, Carrick began to feel his humanity fade away as it was replaced with something new.
Michael exploded in Carrick’s mouth, as Carrick drank all of Michael’s cum like his life depended on it. Carrick began to transform into an ogre. First, he felt his feet swell and grow. Then Owen, Michael and Carrick saw the veins crawling from his huge hairy feet, causing his lower legs to grow muscle, as the veins of growth crept up to his thighs causing them to swell with muscle and tell they were larger than a humans head. Carrick felt his ass ballooning out with muscle and a little bit of fat, then his hard cock began grow longer and thicker from 5 inches to 10 inches long and widen to the size of a soda can. His balls grew to the size of large oranges. The growth spread to his spine making him get taller, as he felt his belly balloon out with muscle and tell he had a big hairy muscle gut. He began to widen to compensate for his new growth and muscles as his, shoulders began to widen and grow with muscle. Owen saw Carrick back began to widen and grow out with muscle as his back hair grew back. Then the growth is affected his pecs causing them grow and thick with muscles, his nipples expanded until they were the size of quarters and they were pointing down. Then Carrick’s arms began to grow his once average biceps ballooned out with muscle until they were the size of basketballs, the growth spread to his lower arms and then his hands grew out and tell they were the size of baseball mitts. His face was the final thing to change, his jaw squared out, his nose rounded and grew a little, and his face became more brutish.
Carrick said in a deep voice, “I need ass.” Within a nod from Owen Michael turned around showing his ass to Carrick face. Carrick knelt and began to lick Michael’s ass in preparation of plowing it. Michael moaned and pleasure as he felt his cock get hard again. Then Carrick got up and with his right hand grabbed his fat cock as he placed it in Michael’s ass, causing him to moan out. Carrick with his free right hand grabbed Michael’s cock and began to rub it, in rhythm of the movement. Owen with his re-hardened cock dripping with precum, began to rub it on Carrick’s ass, in prep to stuffing his fat cock and Carrick’s ass. When Carrick’s ass lubed up, Owen placed his fat cock in Carrick’s ass, causing Carrick to moan in pleasure. All three ogres were in the sexual rhythm, each moving their muscular hips in time with each other. Carrick smiled as he said, “this is the life,” Michael responded, “yeah it is.” “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Owen said out loud, grinning like a madman. All three ogres began to move faster as they came closer to a climax.
All three ogres roared in lust as they all came. Michael’s cum shot out of his fat cock and hit the cage that wants held Benjamin. All three ogres grinning and untangled from each other sprawling on the floor in an afterglow. Then Luke and Johnny showed up, immediately they went to Owen and began to lick his cock clean. Owen thought how he was going to turn the big bad boys into his muscle, but he especially wanted to turn those nerds into big strong hairy ogres that were loyal to him.
Links to lonely small town
parts one:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/19581-a-lonely-small-town-part-one-bored-and-lonely-ogre/?tab=comments#comment-263961
part two:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/19593-a-lonely-small-town-part-two-ogre-needs-plumbing/?tab=comments#comment-264208

A collaboration piece I did a couple months ago, finally fully proofread. Contains the following themes: transformation, orcs, m/m, muscle growth, hair growth, musk, bondage, anal, oral, multiple scenes, clothes ripping, etc. Enjoy! A collab by Arcsrazor and Centaurian I looked at the calendar on my wall, each date X'ed off leading up to tonight. Another full moon, another night in. I sighed. Granted, I was really getting into the groove of this schedule, but it wasn't without its risks. The sound of the doorbell jolted me, a sinking feeling forming in my chest. An unforeseen risk. Maybe they would go away, but the door rang again. I checked my phone; there was still time. I decided to answer and tell them to go away. I opened up the door and there was standing Ethan. Ethan was a good friend of mine, though we hadn’t spoken recently. He was 25, about the same age as me. He had a toned, medium build body with a moderate dusting of hair. His brown hair was in its typical, neat business cut, perfectly matched with his polo and khakis. The guy never relaxes himself. "Allen, so you are home! I was beginning to think there was no point to even trying to get ahold of you." Ethan said angrily as he pushed past me. "It's like you've been avoiding my calls to see what's going on or texts for that matter. Almost like you've dropped off the face off the earth. You better damn well give me some answers as to why you are pulling this shit! I mean we haven't seen you at Softball in weeks the coach has already replaced your position on the team, I don't even see you around at the gym anymore. That used to be the one place I could always catch you. I've been missing a proper spotter dude!" After getting over the initial shock of the outburst and barging in, I get to the immediately pressing task at hand. I tried several times to interject, but Ethan just wouldn’t shut up. I finally yelled in exasperation. "Ethan! Would you shut up for two seconds! I've had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life ok? Now, we can talk about this sometime soon, but I'm busy tonight ok? So if you could-" I started trying to guide Ethan towards the door before any more time is wasted. He, of course, started resisting and shouted back, "Doing WHAT!? You are not getting off the hook that easily! If you aren't willing to explain yourself for simply writing me off you might as well consider this friendship over. I wasn't looking to take it to this point but what you are doing is straight up avoidance of your friends. You know Susan, she actually has been wondering if it's been because you've gotten caught up in drugs or something. The way you've dropped off radar so fast. She's been thinking about arranging some sort of intervention crap!” He just kept going on and on… I had to get him out of here. “It's not drugs is it Allen? Dude, are you doing steroids!!?? You are looking bigger, and you must be getting your work done somewhere else since you no longer frequent the gym." I flushed a bit. The monthly changes had come with certain permanent aspects, increased musculature being one of them. It's true that I had been avoiding the gym to avoid certain people. The sudden change in my physicality would have been a dead give-away. I felt a pulse throb through my chest, and my eyes widened. I had to get him out of here now. "Look, I'm not on anything ok? I'm just busy recently and have a lot on my plate. Can we please just talk about this later?" The veins in my arms started to bulge a bit with the heightened blood flow in my body, my push becoming a bit more forceful. But Ethan just wouldn’t give up the goddamn fight. *** "Dude watch the hands! You know steroid usage is coupled with bursts of anger. You say you aren't on anything but if that's the case then you better have some explanation more than my plate is a little full. Does my friendship mean so little to you? I mean if someone in your family died and you've needed time that would at least be something sensible but no one's heard a peep from you. It's left many of us starting to wonder if you’re even worth the time." I said, feeling incensed that he kept wanting to brush the issue aside. This was turning into a ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ ordeal, and he almost seemed like he didn’t care... or is it that he's distracted? Figuring he's more concerned with ejecting me from the premises, I decided to dig in my heels and refuse to budge. "I'm not going anywhere until we talk about this. You aren't considering the weight of the issue!" I was a bit thrown by a sudden change in his voice and demeanor. "Fine" he said in a voice slightly deeper than before, "But if you're going to stick around, you better damn well help." Before I could respond again, he grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me towards his basement door. The strength with which Allen pulled me with was frightening. He did it with such ease almost as if he was throwing a pillow across the room. Almost lifting me from my feet as he yanked me after him, I almost lost my footing trying to keep up. I was actually stunned into silence and slight confusion as to what the hell he was talking about. Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, Allen pushed me against a wall to wait while he started fiddling with something. My eyes try to process their surroundings to make sense of what was happening, slowly adjusting to the lower light. It was his basement still left unfinished; he had seemingly mentioned plans once or twice with the intent to fix it up but having never gotten around to it. Its cold cement floor the typical gray with white painted cinderblock walls that lined the room. As I began to take in the items scattered in the room, my mind was having difficulties putting the puzzle together. There were various lengths of chains strewn across the floor: some rudimentary shackles, various sized padlocks, in one of the darker corners I even spotted what looked like a wrought iron cage. Was this some sort of sex den he had brought me into? Turning my head towards him, I saw him fiddling with keys on some type of manacles that had been braced into the wall. "Allen, what the hell is all of this?" I said indignant. Not sure I wanted to understand what he had been talking about-worried that this might be taking a turn that I didn't want anything to do with. Allen seemed to struggle with his shirt-which hadn’t looked as tight a few minutes ago-and turned to me after. "I'll explain later, just help chain me up, alright? No back talk" He said in a gruffer voice, baring his teeth. His torso was already glistening with a light perspiration as he starts unlocking the device. "You seriously want me to lock you up!? Have you lost your mind?" Despite my hesitation, I moved over to assist, figuring maybe it might be safer to have him restrained for the moment while I try to get some answers. After closing the latch and backing away from him I couldn’t help but notice his straining erection having tented his pants rather obscenely. I speechlessly waited there while my mind grasped for any explanation that made sense. He gave the restraints a firm tug, keeping in place. He grunted and huffed a sigh of relief. Or was it a grunt of something else? His chest seemed to swell with every breath, muscles striating. The nipples seemed to be looking a bit off as well. "Thank... you..." He could barely seem to get words out. As I stared on, wishing somebody would start providing answers, I observed my friend's body. Perspiration seemed to be gathering across his hairy chest; his breathing was increasing, and it seemed like he was having difficulty focusing. His longer black hair hid the beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead. He had definitely gotten more buff since I had seen him last and I was kind of shocked. My eyes, mid-thought, are immediately drawn to some golden barbells that now pierced his nickel sized nipples. "Oh you've gotten piercings..." I kind of absentmindedly observed as I noted the new addition. My friend elicited a moan while he shuddered for a second. I noticed it seems like his newly displayed erection wasn't dying down, in fact it was quite the opposite. I wondered if my eyes were deceiving me as it looked like his arms started to grow. My voice trembled out of concern as I begged loudly, "Why are you having me do this? What the hell is happening!?" *** "For your... safety... Needed to lock... before-urrrgh." I grunted and snarled a bit. The change, while pleasurable, did sometimes have its elements of discomfort. Partly due to the fact that I still had my pants on. My erection throbbed uncomfortably against the tight-fitting fabric, growing increasingly more obscene in its scope. I tried a little modesty, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. I was surprised he hadn't left yet. My nipples tingled warmly from the golden metal, pulsing energy through me in matching time with the throbbing of my cock. Veins bulged across my arms as I flexed impulsively against the restraints, my biceps swelling like softballs and further, my forearms growing thicker, making the manacles a bit tight. Not helping my pants situation, I could feel my legs tremble and swell, the sound of fabric starting to strain at the seams. The quickest changes hovered around my chest, nipples pulsing a little larger and more sensitive, the off color turning a light, sickly green, and spreading over my chest. Though it would have been hard to tell with the itchy hairs increasing on my already hairy chest. "Thisss... is... a part of... me" I said through an altering mouth. My tongue danced clumsily against growing lower canines and a more defined chin. My nose flared slightly more with each huff, making my sense of smell greater. *** I was taken aback, not knowing if I should turn and run or stay out of concern for Allen. My mind screamed at me that everything I was witnessing with gaping eyes was unnatural, impossible, and while I know my mind should have been breaking from the impossibility of it, I found myself watching on. I stood astonished as I started to hear the ripping of seams, knowing how tough the seams in jeans were. Watching my friend's body swell visibly while he groaned and grunted in what can only be taken as pleasure, I stepped closer to him, wanting to observe with a better view. The front of his jeans was developing a dark spot where his pre was staining the fabric. Feeling a strange sensation, I looked down and realized I had actually gotten hard myself. My mind clearly in denial, I looked back up and notice my friend's broadening brow, his teeth seemingly sharper as two of his lower ones began to creep past his lips, extending upward and thickening into emerging tusks. A sound drew my attention to his feet where I noticed the laces starting to pop apart. My friend’s sneakers started to betray the size of the growing feet hidden inside. The leather gave an audible strain as my friend growled loudly. I almost broke a smile as the sound of stitching ripping apart filled the room, and I saw relief break across his changing face. The sides popped open on his left foot, while the toes of the shoe separated from the sole on his right. His upper body strength was growing at an alarming rate. His pectorals heaved while the skin darkened in shade, sweat matting his chest hair. Their size reminded me of the large dinner plates served at some Italian restaurants, his areolas were now at least quarter sized with the barbells piercing them still glinting in the basement light. *** The rush was incredible, no less enjoyable than the other months I experienced it. My poor shoes didn't make the struggle, but the rip and feeling of air was so satisfying. My legs almost begged to be released from the increasingly strained pants, a couple parts of the seam splitting slightly when I flexed. My chest was heavy with muscle, making it hard to see my abs harden from a decent 6-pac to a tight 8-pac. My arms developed even further, my shoulders bulging outwards as well. Were the manacles not heavy duty, I would have ripped through the restraints then and there. Every tug I gave showed off the increasing flare of my lats, turning green as with the rest of my torso. My cock ached to be freed, the tight friction not doing any favors to calm the beast. I gave a deep, masculine grunt of pleasure as more pre leaked from the tip. My balls swelled against the confines as well, heavy with testosterone and virility. My glutes flexed against their prison, two boulders of hairy flesh increasingly straining to be freed. I licked my darkening lips, navigating around my increasingly lengthened tusks. My ears tingled as they gained slight points. The green spread light in color against the skin, but older areas were darker, the nipples a darker green than the chest. I could smell Ethan as he got closer, smelling his mix of fear and... arousal. A part of me took a primal pleasure in that as I smirked. His scent, partially masked by his cologne, served to make me hornier. I would have pounced on him given the chance. At the same time, I could tell the musk emanating from me had gotten thicker. A heavy pheromone piercing the air, though not as strong as it could be. *** As I continued to take in my friend's changes visually it seemed like the air was getting thicker, almost like an invisible haze had entered the room. A smell like the light musk that lingers in a locker room simply by the repeated presence of men sweeping through it. Not unpleasant, just overtly masculine. I watched on as my buddy writhed a bit against his bindings, stretching and flexing his legs. I guessed he was trying to rid himself of the pants which I could only imagine had to be seriously getting in the way at that point. I started to hear some rips again coming from the denim fabric trapping the changes from my view. A louder rip revealed openings-one over his outer side quad and the other one wrapping around his hamstring. After pausing a second, the struggle renewed with intensity as the obvious beast between his legs struggled for release. I looked on with increasing interest, for a moment tempted to aid him, but part of me was curious to see if he was going to be able to do it on his own. I was close enough where I could reach out and touch him, but yet I stayed fixed to my post almost as if I had a deep need to bear witness. I had this growing urge to want to explore his expanding muscles, to want to feel him growing in mass right in my hands so that maybe my head could wrap around what it was actually seeing. I couldn't begin to figure out what motivating factors were possibly behind my thoughts; I was caught up in the moment and unable to leave, that much I knew. I was again drawn down to see his feet pushing out from their confines, the remnants of the leather splitting open and folding outward from the sole like an opening flower. His feet flexed in their socks, enjoying their newfound freedom. Some holes had even started to open up in the fabric as I noted how much bigger they appeared. All my mind's eye could summon as a comparison were images of the hulk's feet. They hadn't unveiled themselves totally yet. *** I licked my dark green lips, the sensations increasingly sensual. My tusks were now pronounced from my mouth, my nose flared even wider, the tip upturning. Every scent in the air became clearer still, and I got turned on by my own scent. Despite my musk’s strength, I could sense the continual arousal from Ethan. A more primal part of me chuckled, the voice deep and masculine as it rumbled from my expanded chest, as a dark part of my mind fantasized about the implications of that arousal. I could feel my ears flick as the points grew a bit longer, and my vision shifted slightly as my upper brow grew a bit more pronounced. I rotated my wrists and flexed my arms again, hands curled into fists larger than most men, with rough green palms. A thick dusting of hair covered my torso, forearms, and hands, matted with the sweat trickling from my body by the exertion of the change. My body felt hot, especially concentrated around the piercings still pulsing from my nipples. I flexed my toes and stamped my feet, ripping through the remaining fabric of the shoes and socks. That done, I gave a grunt as I took in a deep breath of air and flexed my legs harder than ever. My green tinted legs tore through more of the fabric. Jeans were such a tough material to shred, but newfound muscle proved even stronger. The seams were fully pulled apart, and one last flex of the glutes tore the waistband, the button popping off at the same time. The ruined jeans fell away to reveal huge, hairy legs, the deep green enriching my skin reaching down to the last parts of my feet. My underwear strained against the bulge formed in the front, uncommonly large. My balls also strained the fabric, swollen with virility. The fabric was soaked with a mix of sweat and pre-cum, the scent of musk getting even stronger than before. I let out a grunt of satisfaction, my hands instinctively straining to touch my bulge but not having enough reach. I let out a frustrated grunt as I strained. *** I watched with some strange sense of satisfaction as the seams burst wider apart, beginning to let his pants legs flap about his massively carved thighs and calves in his struggles as they lost their grip on him. As he gave a kind of forward thrust and a pleased grunt, the button on the front of his jeans ricocheted off my thigh. The rather large head of his cock pushed through the zipper, breaking it. It was covered in stained cotton as his briefs still clung to him. He had breached the seam near on one side of his waist from a combination of his widening hips and his growing muscular ass. It began to fall away from him like parts of a molted shell as his enlarging lower body could finally feel the air circulate around it. The aforementioned haze deepened to a fog. He stood there with his boxer briefs clinging to his massive tool tenting the sweat and pre stained fabric, the basket of it stretched by his heavy sac. He strained against his chains, trying to break free. His grunts and groans were starting to come more frequently, something must have been building. I noticed how his green pointed ears neatly framed his face with his new thickened brow line. The actual eyebrows seemed to be bushier in texture. Gruff stubble broke out all over his face and widened chin. When his eyes weren’t closed in pleasure, they had more wild look about them. They flicked around the room to take in their surroundings at an alarming pace almost in an animalistic way. His tusks thick and prominent now stood two inches above his fleshier lower lip and gave his visage a more fearsome look. His nose was stretching as he looks down at me, its shape reminding me of a pig somehow. For a second, I thought he was laughing as his chest rumbled. The nose’s upturned tip and now widening nostrils flared as he continued to breathe deeply between the increasing grunts and longer bassy groans. The fabric of his briefs became increasingly taut as his ass continued to gain mass. I found myself anticipating the unveiling, curious to see the changes that have developed. *** Even as the changes started to finalize through my body, the pulsation only seems to increase. Veins bulged on my body as my heart steadily pounded faster. My large hands groped at the chains of the restraints as I tugged, wanting the freedom, wanting to touch my large, virile body. The bonds didn't budge, but I continued to tug, flexing. My chest bulged, rippled with striations. The golden barbells almost seemed to glow from their heat-my large, dark green nipples hard and protruding. I tossed my head back, heavy black hair cascading behind as I gave a roar and grunt of power. It was a deep bellow that almost seemed to shake the room. I gritted my teeth, tusks protruding dangerously, and planted my feet into a wide stance. I flexed my legs hard, in tune with the pulses running through my body. The tingling of change lessened more and more, but it was replaced with heightened awareness of the power and sensitivity radiating from me. My heart picked up even more pace, my cock rubbing with a sweet, raw friction against my underwear. My balls strained at the fabric, desperate to escape their tight prison. I flexed my body faster, glutes and cock working hard to make that last push. My heavy chest heaved, and I let out a snarling growl. My eyes, irises turned a dark red, focused on the small man in front of me. With a deep grunt and another roar, I tilted my head back and flexed as hard as ever, every inch of my green body wet and defined. With a loud rip, my cock broke free, a green as dark as my nipples. My balls bounced into view before drawing up to my body, my cock twitching with power. Sweet release as I shot a volley of cum, thick and white across the air. I couldn’t see where it landed in my closed bliss, but the reaction from the small man gave me a clue. My balls bounced with every shot, rope after rope of cum cascading across the distance onto the man who had not left. *** I stared at my friend becoming the beast as he thrusted in earnest watching as rips continued opening through his briefs. With one final thrust and a bellowing roar it finally snapped free the waistband popping open like an overstretched rubber band. His member revealed to me was masculine art as it stood throbbing before me. His member at least ten inches long and probably a good seven inches around was massive. It was at least as thick as my wrist, and his musky smelling nuts now housed testicles that had to be the size of jumbo grade A eggs. It began launching volley after volley of arcing seed as it splatted against my chest quickly drenching my shirt. His nuts spasming in their sac as he continued to let out successive grunts expressing the thorough pleasure he was reveling in. I didn't even flinch as I stood there feeling it soak through the fabric the smell of his seed putting that heady musk directly in my face as if I had buried mine directly in his crotch. I watched as the beast came down from his high lying slack against his chains. His breath was heaving as his body remained a carved work that would make Leonardo Da Vinci’s David jealous. I figured it would take him a bit to recover as it looked like the beast was settling into a brief rest. I went over to one of the side walls to lean against it as I settled to the floor. I sat there with my mind feeling vacant. I realized I needed to do some thinking with regard to the events that had just transpired, but it was like the gears in my head had frozen and refused to turn. I sat there with my legs extended in front of me as I laid my head against the wall and found myself slowly drifting towards sleep, still covered in my friends ample deposit of cum, and I think my head found it easier to accept the descending darkness. *** After blacking out for a good remainder of the night, I slowly came to my senses. The basement was still dark, but it must have been morning. My body felt a bit sore, particularly around the wrists where I was restrained. I looked down at my body. Human... smaller... naked. The air was still warm. I stretched in my shackles, the chains clanging a bit. I heard a shifting in the corner and saw Ethan resting against the wall, his clothes crusty. I remembered him standing in front of me, certain scents... but I'd worry about that later. I called out to him. "Hey Ethan, you awake? I can't unchain myself right now since you have the keys." *** I woke up hearing Allen calling out to me. My back was sore from having been slouched against the wall. I raised my head to look over at my friend, naked and his skin flushed. I slowly started processing and realize I still had the keys from last night in my pocket. He was leaning up against the wall, his frame noticeably smaller but still well defined. He was kind of avoiding looking at me as he stood there exposed to me. I tried to figure out if he was embarrassed or what exactly he was thinking, but then again, I guess he was in the same boat. I lifted myself up from the floor walking over to him. I released him from his bonds and he gripped his wrists trying to ease some of the pain from them. I told him "You might want to get cleaned up... I'll meet you upstairs when you are ready. The thought occurred to me to leave you chained but you at least deserve to retain some dignity while you give me an explanation." With that, I turned to walk up the stairs and headed to his couch in the living room to wait. *** I mumbled out a thanks before looking around. It's then that I realized all the clothes I had on shredded, besides the shirt. I bundled it up in front of my junk and tried to get to my room quickly. "One sec" I said as I passed by the living room to mine, going into my dresser for a new set of clothes. A lot of my wardrobe had to be updated since the changes had begun, my clothes a little baggy just in case. After changing into a pair of workout shorts and a tank top, I headed into the living room. I cleared my throat. "So... about last night... how are you doing by the way? Should I uh... grab you a new shirt?" I felt flushed, a bit embarrassed. I hadn't expected my secret to get out, and now here I was. His reaction so far had been... unexpected to say the least. At least he wasn't freaking out. He responded, with some exasperation, "Well while as I've never quite experienced what happened last night I think that the shirt isn't even on the list of topics to cover. I'll wash it later! I guess what happened last night explains some of the questions I had before I even conceptualized this as a possibility. Namely the questions as to why you've been avoiding me and everyone else. So without needing to get into that lets keep things to the topic of what the hell happened last night!" I nodded my head and sit down on the arm chair in the room. I sighed, collecting my thoughts. Where to begin? "I'm not fully sure when it started. Well... a while back I was looking into getting some piercings, and I heard that nipple ones increased sensitivity. I had sat on it a while, but I found a place online and went. It was an odd place; shady, but it had good reviews, so I braved it. My piercer was a strange fellow, but it went over well, and I was left with these." I gestured to the golden barbells. "They felt fine, but during that next full moon, I basically blacked out. The pleasure emanating from the piercings was so intense... and I was caught off guard that I woke up the next morning in my trashed living room, clothes torn up. I vaguely remembered the night, and I'm glad I didn't go out and hurt somebody." I sighed deeply. "I tried to go back to the place for answers, but the place had either moved or been closed down. I was scared, but... I was also... intrigued. The change has its uh *cough* benefits..." I said, blushing a bit. "So I figured out a way to do it safely. I had a few things set up in the basement, but I've found that the cage works best. I can't reach through the bars in my... orc form. Although it's not comfortable, it works. The shackles worked surprisingly well too, and a lot more comfortable despite the wrist pain. So... there you have it. I'm a freak." *** "Man if you mean like a freak of nature don't ever think that. A freak of a different kind, well something could be said for the way you thrusted your way out of those briefs launching your jizz across the room. That was something!" I said with a blush, my mind replaying the scene. "To say a few benefits might be selling it short you looked like you enjoyed the fuck out of that! So you are looking to just contain it not get rid of it? It's that good huh?” He shrugged, giving a wry smile. "Yeah, I want to keep it. It's been a bit tough, but it's been worth it. It's even started to help me, in some respects" he said as he flexed one of his arms to himself. "I'm just glad you helped me out in time. I'm not sure what would have happened to you had I been free. I mean, my mind is still 'there', but it's on a different frequency, in a sense. More impulsive, different inclinations. You can't let anyone know about this though. Tell them I'm doing well, that I'm busy or something, but I can't let them know about me. You have to promise me, Ethan." I sat there thinking a bit trying to figure out if I am willing to sign onto this. Keeping the secret is a no brainer, because I wouldn't want to hurt my friend, but I could back away now and I guessed he would understand and respect my decision. I mean, I would hope that my friend could successfully keep all this under wraps and there would be no further risks, but then I thought about the chance encounter that happened tonight. If that was enough to throw off his cover then how could he best ensure maintaining the secret? "My silence is guaranteed. I'm mean if you aren't looking for help finding a way out of this, how can you best make sure that you can maintain there won't be a risk of discovery? I mean think about last night." *** I paused for a moment, considering. Ethan had a good point. I had managed these past few months alright, but there weren’t any guarantees. "I hadn't really considered it. Things had been fine so far, and the installation in the basement worked well. You do have a point... but what exactly are you proposing? It sounds like you have a plan? Or are you just warning me?" "It's not that I'm proposing something in as much just making sure you are taking into account the apparent risks and deterrence you might have to run to ensure your secret stays yours or only those you trust." He pauses a moment before continuing. "Allen, I mean if you think about it the best way to 'manage' something like this is to have someone to cover should anything go awry so I guess if you wanted my help I can offer it, as I doubt there might be anyone else that you can think of to help." "Hmm..." I thought for a moment. It made a lot of sense. I nodded. "You're right man. If you're willing to help out, I'll accept it. It's nice to have someone who knows now at least. And I haven't been the best friend, so thanks for not bailing." I gave a small smile, sitting up a bit taller as if a weight has been lifted. "And hey, like I said, the chains are definitely easier on the body than that tight cage. I really appreciate this man. I'll keep you up to date on the cycle. And hey, if you don't mind switching to a new locale, we can even start working out together again." *** "Okay, but only if you are paying the first quarter of my fees." It felt nice to have reconnected after so long an absence from Allen, even if this was a majorly weird way to do it. I realized, thinking to myself, that I couldn't deny some part of me had a residing interest in the change I had witnessed. Part of me had wondered if he had ever captured it to witness the full extent of it himself. I felt my face flush at the thought as I stared off out a window for a moment. He smiled wider. "Then it's settled. We'll get this all sorted out for next time. But for now, breakfast?" ---- Well, two moons later and it looked like we were finally starting to develop a routine. Allen and I would meet up for workouts a few times a month just to keep tabs before the full moon approached. On the day of, we'd usually spend the evening watching movies or some such to while away the time before moonrise. When the moment was near we'd head down to the basement. We stuck with the manacles as restraint for his comfortability as his change would start. He first tried sticking with wearing sweats figuring it would give the least resistance and I convinced him if it was comfort he was going for and since he knew I had seen the goods so to speak, he might as well just wear a pair of briefs. Each time witnessing the change it never got old. Every time was just as intense for him, and I could see why part of him didn't want to be rid of it. I was finding it harder for me to hide my arousal when it would happen. Besides the beneficial side effects it provided he certainly didn't mind. The added strength, the hairier appearance, he even suggested a few times he thought the turning was making him just naturally hornier. He equated it to his latter teen years. *** I was sitting on the couch with Ethan, finishing up a movie. The alarm on my phone went off and I stood and stretched. "Well, looks like it's that time. Shall we?" I walked over to the basement and headed down the stairs. I stripped down from my clothes, comfortable on my large frame, but nothing ready for what was to come. I stripped down to my briefs, a bit baggy on my frame to compensate. Ethan helped me into the manacles, and I gave them a tug to check their strength, as good as ever. I gave him a nod and settled in. We talked for a few minutes until the all too familiar heat started to wash over my body, pulsing from my barbells. I gave a light groan of pleasure as I flexed my hands, getting into the groove of it. My muscles flexed and pulsed with the heat as they started to slowly expand outwards. A couple beads of sweat ran down my body. A little part of my mind started to awaken as well, the more impulsive beast inside. I reflexively licked my lips in anticipation of further changes. It was easiest to just give in as quickly as possible, the changes almost rewarding me for acceptance. My body continued to grow, the green tint forming from my nipples and flowing over my increasingly sweaty chest. My breath came out heavier, the changes continuing to expand. Nostrils flared out with every breath. My cock twitched and jumped to life, balls already starting to swell heavier with virility. Part of me wished I could have restraints that let me touch my cock, but I needed the rigidity. The tool throbbed with sensitivity, rubbing against the fabric of the ever tightening briefs. *** I stood before my friend in the throes of transformation again, watching as his dick rose rigid in his briefs and swelled in size as he moaned and shuddered. His body gained mass right before my eyes. As I looked on I was tiring of feeling envious of this pleasure Allen got to experience monthly and the sheer size of his body. An urge had been growing, the same way his cock expanded and began to stretch the fabric to its limits, inside me now to want to help him physically with the change to feel him as he changes. I walked up closer to him as he strained against the manacles and placed a hand across his rippling abdominals. Growling as his facial features were changing, he barely took the time to focus on me. He gave a slight look of confusion at my approach. I hooked my fingers into the band of his briefs peeling them back over the length of his cock, letting it pop out into view as the greenish hue washed across its length. "What... what arrrre you doing?" He said, letting out a deep gasp as the fabric pulled away from his junk. It throbbed as it came in contact with the air, as if in anticipation. "E-Ethan?" He said gruffly. "Shhhh big guy, sit back and try not to worry about me so you can focus on your changes buddy." I soothingly said while I pulled his briefs past his straining thighs and let them fall to the floor. I stared down at his pulsing rod as I wrapped my hands around the length of his changing shaft. I could feel the heft and weight of him and it was rock solid. Yet despite that, his penis flexed as he grunted, and I felt his cock expanding further in my hands. Its changing girth, its increasing length as its now lime green steadily darkened towards an emerald hue. Entranced, I bought its thickening head to my mouth, his dick jumping as it felt my breath caress across his glans. That heady scent that accompanied his previous changes was starting to fill the room and I sucked the head into my waiting mouth, swirling my tongue over Allen's massive dickhead. The taste was intoxicating as the pre that had been dripping from his slit washed across my taste buds. Deeper! I was instantly compelled to try and take more of him within my mouth as I started choking on his shaft in an attempt to deep throat as much of him as I can. Cutting off my air I started to gag a bit and my eyes watered. My hands now free, I moved my left down to cup his hairy sac as they grow heavier in my hands. My right hand creeped up over his pronounced, flexing abdominals up to meaty heaving pectoral to find the barbell piercing his quarter sized nipples and squeezed it. His dick jerked within my mouth in response and he elicited a roar as I teased the beasts rising passions. *** My breathing grew heavier, and not just because of the changes. My mind was still reeling from the unexpected attention, the more primal side pushing more quickly than usual. I couldn’t even think of a proper vocal response other than the occasional groan, my mind was growing so foggy. Those times before with the thoughts... the idea of dominating over him... smelling his arousal each time... I should have seen it coming. A little drool escaped my thickening, greener lips as my body shuddered from another moan. My GOD did that nipple stimulation work me over hard. Almost as if it was quickening me along. My body flexed as Ethan took me deeper, my heels digging into the hard floor. The pleasure was so intense; I could barely focus my sight. It hadn't been this bad since the first time I changed. Breath heavy, I tried to steady my heart rate and look down. I looked over the curve of my pecs down at Ethan below me, his eyes closed as he tried desperately to take more of my cock into his mouth. My cock leaked its generous amount of pre inside of him. I blinked a few times and squinted. The lighting was a bit dimmed, but something was definitely off. Ethan's ears looked larger... pointier. As his mouth came back to the tip of my shaft, I could see a slight discoloration in his lip, a pale green as if he were wearing some kind of makeup. My eyes widened as I realized what was happening, the human in me worried, the orc in me... excited. As if an instinctual part of me knew this would happen. I tried to let out a warning, something to stop it and help my friend, but the thicker, almost softer lips wrapping themselves down my length caused me to let out a moan instead. I could feel an orgasm slowly approaching, and I knew what that will mean for my friend. "E-Ethaa-ugh" I couldn't think... *** My left hand continued working Allen's nuts as they swelled to their new size as I continued trying to down his shaft in repeated strokes. His dickhead pushed back against my tonsils as I kept trying to get my throat to open wide enough to take him fully yet to no avail. My right hand had dropped to the hilt of his pulsating shaft to stimulate the length I couldn't fit entirely within. His grunts were getting louder I knew he had to be getting closer. Things seemed to be happening faster for him during this change and I wondered in part if my ministrations had something to do with it. Allen's body thrashed wildly as it seemed torn between wanting to thrust willingly to completion or as if trying to fight me off. With my vice grip around his cock making sure each stroke provided ample sensation and suctioning mouth keeping a firm fastness to him as if I was a man dying of thirst, I continued my efforts. Something was starting to give because the beast began thrusting his hips forward with a rising desperation as my left hand felt his sac tightening. The fingers of my hand running through the bushier hair he now sported there as the musk emanated thickly from his groin. I was beginning to grunt while I was downing him intently as I yearned for his impending release. My own cock trapped in my briefs strained my pants tightly. It was starting to become uncomfortable as I needed to free myself, to be able to touch myself as my friend was reaching the summit of his transition. Dropping my hand from his nuts I began to fumble with my zipper trying to quickly release myself from the trappings so that I could grasp my own tool. I could feel the tempo change within me as I knew the arousal from bringing my friend to the brink was bringing me near erupting myself. I quickly pushed my pants down past my knees so I could balance myself on them, my hard dick bobbing in the cool air for the basement. My dick was apparently awash with pre as my passions had been rising while servicing this orcish beast. Allen was thrusting urgently into my mouth hilting me on his cock as far as I could take him and withdrawing almost fully to repeat the process. I did my best to keep my lips locked in place to avoid any possible scraping. I kept trying to take any breath I could between the strokes as I let him use me to his own ends. The beast suddenly reared back against the chains holding him roaring loudly as his dick started flexing hard in my mouth as he shoved it in and started to push back into my throat holding it there. His testicles jumped repeatedly in their sac as he started to unload down my throat. I had no resistance as I tried to refrain from choking on his massive meat as he unloaded continuing to roar throughout. Time seemed to take forever to pass as surely this must have been the heaviest ejaculation he must have ever had up until this point. *** My breath came out ragged, heavy with the exertion of my orgasm. I hadn’t experienced anything so intense since I had first transformed. It had been a while since I had direct physical contact with my cock as well in this form. My heavy, virile balls had unleashed their load, and as the remainder of my physical changes coursed over my body, the orc in me smirked. Sweat dripped from my body, hot from the pleasures that had just ensued, making the scents in the air all the stronger. My dark green skin glistened in the dim light. I snapped out of my thoughts a bit as Ethan stood up. Even without seeing differences up close, I could smell a change. The wide nostrils of my snout flared as I took in a new musk mixing with mine, though it was a tad faint. I looked into Ethan’s face as he faced me, his height a little shorter than usual in comparison given my changes. “That was…good” I grumbled out in a deep baritone, smirking a tusky grin. It was then I could really take into consideration the alteration of his form. His ears had definitely gained length, and his own nose had flared out in the beginnings of a snout. His lips, green, were thicker, and I could espy the slightest poking of tusks from the lower. Beyond that, his still brown eyes had a new look to them, even more sly and cunning than before. He shifted closer, his breath rolling over my thick chest and neck. I let out a primal groan as he gropes my sac, my cock already hardening again. I pulled hard against my restraints as I forced my head down, loosely locking lips with the changing man. I closed my eyes, my ears picking up the sound of straining shirt fabric. I could feel his body pushing outwards against mine with each passing second, the green no doubt having spread over a large amount of his face at this point and creeping down his neck. Our cocks brushed against each other, mine smearing a layer of pre against his tighter shirt. I knew what I wanted; I wanted to change him faster. The small human voice was still unsure, but it was the orc’s time to play. *** His musk was filling the air, drifting off of his body in waves laced in the sweat that graced his torso and back, still lingering from his orgasm. My body still yearned for release and my head was swimming still from the frenzy of passion when I drank down his load. Something felt different. There was an energy coursing through me as I stood in front of him, moving my hand from his nuts to his thick shaft. He was still rigid and ready despite his recent climax. He looked down grinning at me, almost sizing me up, waiting to see what I'll do next. I had to stretch up to reach him as I pressed our cocks together and grinded against him. Something within me wanted more of him, and I debated in my head as to my next course of action. I started to tease his nipple with my mouth, my tongue feeling over the texture of the barbell. As I sucked on him I felt like my arms were getting stronger. My shirt tightened over my body, the seams over my shoulders I could hear the starting to tear slowly apart. I began to climb up Allen's body, gripping the chains to his manacles as I brought my hips to straddle his, wrapping my legs around him. I pulled him in for a kiss as I slowly thrusted my tool against his abdominals. I could feel his stiff cock brush against my ass cheek as I slid against him. I was coming to the realization that my goal had been achieved. While I may not have initially sought it directly, inadvertently I had wanted to be like Allen, and it seemed that in partaking of his essence, I could feel the changes coursing through me. The level of my horniness was becoming a fevered pitch; I needed to do something to satiate the growing need that was threatening to consume me. I slid down his torso some as I made contact with his shaft. Reaching my hand backwards, I began to line up his massive tool with the crack of my rear. He was still oozing pre even now as I let him thrust some to smear it as lube between my crevices. My actions seemed to be getting a rise out of him, and he is trying to reposition himself to gain some leverage to at least control his movements. As I was wrapped around him, I moved with him so I could remain entirely in control of the situation. Allen grunted in frustration while I kissed and lapped at his neck. The fabric across my back was beginning to tear in larger openings as my new expanding muscles flexed against it while I maneuver. With my legs entwined around his hips, I sensually grinded his pulsating dick between the cheeks of my ass. I could tell Allen had a growing desire to want to penetrate me as the teasing was beginning to frustrate him. He started to give off this bassy growl that reverberated through his massive chest. Clinging to him, I raised up to position the head of his cock at the entrance without the use of my hands. It took a few tries, but when I finally lined him up correctly, I could feel the head of his dick swelling in anticipation. I began to slowly press down with the increasing weight of my body as the head of his tool started to push against the sphincter muscle to try and gain entry. Trying to pace myself, I struggled with the idea of taking the pain all at once and trying to get it over with or easing into it slowly. As tensions rose on both of our parts, I opted for the first option. I shoved my weight down on his cockhead, taking in the whole head in one thrust and just a bit past it, letting out a sound between a roar and a yell as I felt my ass like it was on fire from being breached. Allen also growled, but his was from the growing pleasure of feeling his tool engulfed from such warmth. I sat there breathing through the initial pain as I gave my ass a moment to adjust to its invader. After some of the initial pain had subsided I start to slowly bounce using gravity and my weight to try and assist in taking on the many inches of Allen's emerald rod. *** My muscles bulged with the strain I was placing against my shackles, veins bulged along my beefy green arms and shoulders. Sweat trickled down the thick forest of hairs over my body, especially now that there was such prolonged body contact. As Ethan positioned himself over my cock, I flexed it into position, pushing against his tight, still human hole (though the tint of that muscle had started turning green from the exposure to my pre). As my head pierced through the barrier, my red eyes rolled in my head as I tilted my head back, letting out a roar of pleasure. It was almost painfully tight, but that just made it all the better. As he slowly started to bounce, I could feel some slight changes occurring. His weight was starting to feel a bit heavier hanging on my frame, his ass started to swell with weight as it flexed around more and more of my cock. His hole increasingly adjusted to taking my size, though the tightness remains just right. I could feel my pre lubing the inside of his hole, allowing me to enter deeper and deeper. I could see Ethan's nipples hard against the ever straining fabric of his shirt, and I licked my lips and tusks as I contemplated teasing his tight, increasingly orc-like body. Unable to help myself, I started giving small thrusts in time to his bouncing, getting him closer to my hilt. His thighs, cinched around my waist, bulked with muscle to match his no doubt glorious and furry ass. As I felt his ass bottom out on my cock, we both let out a primal groan. He adjusted his arms, gripping onto mine to steady himself in the position. However, our combined weight and pull proved too much. My ears flicked as I hear a loud CHINK and the resistance of the chains slackened; the wall attachment points broke completely free. Eyes wide, we fell forward to a rough landing. Ethan's breath left him for a moment, but his new body took the impact better than I anticipated. Having gained control of the situation, I gave him a mischievous grin as I started to hump with steady strokes into his large, green ass, his legs splayed below. I held onto his legs until I noticed his shirt was still on. I gave a deep chuckle as I gripped the fabric with both hands, pausing my thrusts for a moment, and flexing, cleanly ripped the fabric in half. His green, furry, muscled torso was revealed, his dark green nipples pert in the exposed air. I licked my large thumbs before placing them on his nipples, rubbing lightly in a circular motion, slowly increasing the pressure. He let out a grunt of pleasure, hot breath escaping from his porcine nose as he writhed in pleasure. I picked up my thrusts again, slowly to match the pace of the nipple teasing, but both are increasing every moment. *** As Allen thrusted into me with renewed vigor, the change that was coursing through my body was only adding to the increasing pleasure from his cock up my ass and hammering my prostate. I wrapped my thickening legs around him, his ass flexing as he thrusted in harder. The grunts of his were interspersed with his panting as his pace increased his body's exertion. He licked at my neck and sucked at my earlobe as he lost himself over to his instincts willingly. The transformation was nearing its completion, and my dick was anxiously dripping, desperate for release as it ground against my partner’s flexing hard abdominals. I was losing focus, mind barely holding onto reality as the passion along with the transformation was nearing its pinnacle. The only thing I could manage was to hold on tightly as I was being swept away, adrift in a sea of flooding sensations. Out of the haze, I believe I could hear him starting to near the summit of his journey as the sounds he elicited were becoming more savage. My body started to shudder against him as I could no longer control or resist my own rising urges within me. My new emerald cock had swollen hard against him, having increased in size and girth every inch of it feels the hunching of his abs, his belly fuzz tickling my shaft as his thrusts reached a frenzied pace. The climax exploded inside of my mind as it shatters like a thousand shard of glass, intense pleasure as my cock erupted against his abs and splashed between our two bodies. I couldn’t even consciously tell if I was making a sound as my mind had trouble distinguishing the environment around me lost in the clouds of pleasure and mind numbing intensity. As I continued to eject my seed, my ass has started clutching at his shaft frantically and involuntary, but it was throwing Allen over the edge of the abyss into the freefall of his impending orgasm. The thrust started to jar my body to its foundations as I felt a warmth explode within me, his cock flexing hard inside me. Allen liberally painted my insides with his seed, claiming me in an intense act of passion as his thrusting started to stagger, his seed still shooting within me as his breath heaved from his massive chest. As his thrusting subsided, Allen stays firmly lodged within me as he collapsed in exhaustion on my frame. Despite the added weight, I could still breathe thanks to my own frame. He nestled his head in the crook of my neck, his breathing slowing into my ear. My mind was still slightly lost in the haze of the high I had felt and never achieved before now. I raised my burly arms, wrapping around him and pulling him tight against me as I welcomed his enveloping mass of muscles. The feeling of my friend in my arms as we drifted off to sleep was a very anchoring experience, making the events of this night solidify in my mind; my orc knew that I belonged to him alone. *** It was another month, another night. Some program was on the TV, not that I was paying too much mind to it. The beeper on my phone went off, signaling the few minute warning. "Well, it's that time. Shall we?" I said, smiling, looking over at Ethan on the couch with me. He was wearing a loose chain harness on his frame, courtesy of the demolished shackles of my basement. His frame had filled out a good amount over the past month thanks to his initial change. We started working out together, getting a number of stares at our progress, but I didn't care. His chest was also a bit hairier than before too, his whole ensemble so vastly different than his normal polo demeanor. While I had been initially taken aback by his advance, the situation now felt right. We stood up and I pulled off my shirt, prepping for the changes I could feel about to tingle through my body. We started walking towards the basement door, me giving his firm ass a good squeeze before we headed down the stairs. I closed and locked the door behind us. It was going to be a very good night.

A lonely small-town part three
an ogre’s thunder
links to part one and two are at the bottom.
Owen was using Johnny’s phone to search the Internet for his next victims. Owen realized that he needed a lot of people to make town function. So, he made a list for the people he needed to corrupt. After he attained electricity for his town, he would need to get some construction workers and then he me to feed the construction workers, so we have to get some kind of chef, but a chef would meet food to cook. Owen side in exhaustion, he grabbed his nose with his big thumb and pointer finger and squeezed. Owen knew that there was a college in the town that Luke and Johnny were from. He knew that there were cameras and security in their library. So, Owen made a list of people to kidnapped and to corrupt, the first on his list was the man named Michael the electrical worker who worked on power lines. Then through Johnny he went to the college’s website for information, he knew that they were some students taking classes that would make them good farmers and druids.
Owen had Luke and Johnny go to collect Johnny’s stuff from his house. In one of the amended buildings in Owen’s town. Owen was looking through Johnny’s stuff, admiring at Johnny’s flat screen TV. Owen noted that a lot of the people he can get could be found at the college. That would be his next stop after he attained Michael, then he would have to corrupt the two people that Luke and Johnny captured. One of the people they captured was a cop the other one was some kind of punk. Owen smiled to himself, he wasn’t sure what you would do with a punk, but the cop would be useful. His ability to turn humans into ogres had limits he couldn’t spam it and usually took a week to recharge but with Luke and Johnny’s help he could reduce it to a day. Plus, the more Owen turned people into ogres the better he got at it.
Luke was a fairly smart guy but now as an ogre he wasn’t bright, often flexing to himself while looking at a mirror. Which made Luke manageable, while Johnny wasn’t very bright as a human, Owen was able to let Johnny keep some of his intelligence, especially how to be a plumber. Owen closed his eyes to see what Johnny and Luke was up to. Johnny was licking Luke’s hairy armpits in worship, Luke had his eyes close in pleasure, as Luke’s bearded face had a smile of pleasure. Luke’s unkept short brown hair his thick bushy eyebrows made him look brutish and masculine. While Johnny’s black hair was slightly longer, and he had a bushy mustache and goatee. Then Johnny made his way to Luke’s lips and they began to make out rubbing their hairy chest together, Johnny’s belly was a lot fatter than Luke’s who had more of a muscle gut, while both for their pecs were firm. Owen opened his eyes and with his left hand grabbed his semi hard cock and he gave it a squeeze and he grown in pleasure at the touch. Then Owen finalized his plans to capture Michael.
Owen turned Johnny’s flat screen TV into an Oracle device to spy on Michael. Michael was around 5 feet tall, average build, dark brown skin, with short black curly hair, with a small sharp mustache, an average nose, and dark brown eyes. Michael was wearing his work clothes, as he ate lunch. Owen watched Michael work and tell the end of the day, waiting for Michael to go home. Owen had Luke and Johnny prepare to capture Michael when Owen teleported him to the building that Owen and his ogres set up. It took concentration to make sure that Luke and Johnny weren’t fucking on the job, and prisoners were kept asleep, and tell they could be turned. Several hours later Michael was at his house and taking off his clothes. Within a flash of light, he was teleported.
Michael was blinded by a sudden flash of light, then he felt big hands grab him. Michael eyes slowly adjusted to the room he was in. The place was cold and dark with very little light. He noticed this that he was butt naked and, that he was pinned by two hands the size of large baseball mitts holding his arms preventing him from escaping. He could barely see his captive when he heard a door opened and close. He saw the light getting closer, as he saw a large shadow get longer in front of him. When he tried to turn his face around all he saw was a big hairy belly, which made him scared and confused. Then unexplainably he felt extremely thirsty, as he saw a huge hairy muscular arm coming from his left side, holding a flask of some kind of liquid. Michael knew that he should not drink this liquid from this stranger, but he couldn’t resist he was so thirsty. As Michael drank the liquid, he knew this was a mistake. Michael felt itchy as hair started growing all over his body, he especially felt the growth hit his face as he felt a beard growing on his face. Then he felt his dick getting hard.
Then suddenly Michael was turned around bumping his face on a big hairy belly. Through the movement of a light source revealed the person that was holding him had thick oranges skin. Then he felt the hairs on his back of his neck stand up on end, as he felt when his new back hair being shaved off and felt when someone painting on his raw back. Then Michael was let go, as he was rubbing his arms at the place they were grabbed. He saw the monster that was holding him to Michael’s eyes the beast was huge. With rippling muscles, a big wide hairy chest, holding a big round belly, and over 10 feet tall. The huge muscle beast was wearing blue jeans size shorts and was bare chested. His face had a dumb smile under its bushy black mustache and had blue vacant eyes, under black bushy eyebrows.
Michael heard “leave us,” the voice sound deep with a strange accent. Then the musclebound beast left out the right-side room, then Michael turned around to see in another musclebound beast, but unlike the first who is holding him this one was more intelligent. With its brown eyes that gleamed with cold intelligence, that were partially covered up with thick black eyebrows. Then the musclebound beast said” my name is Owen come satisfied your thirst”. Owen waved his hand beckoning Michael to come, he couldn’t resist as his eyes saw Owens big fat meaty cock that was fully erect and write for the tasting. Michael slowly came closer to Owen’s cock, resisting every step. Michael said” what have you done to me, why am I so hairy and horny”. Owen smiled as he said,” my milk you drank made you ready for an ogre’s transformation, as your taste for a woman’s touch you will find it is gone, replaced with a better taste”. A taste of big hairy ogres and their delicious cocks. As Michael face was near Owen’s uncut cock, he tried to bite it as a last-ditch effort to defy Owen. But it only made Owen more aroused, as some precum squirted out into Michael’s mouth causing him to taste it. The second Michael tasted Owens corruptive cum he began to lick and suck Owen’s cock. Michael was trying to resist but the more of Owen’s cum he drank the more he felt the corruption taking hold. The memories of his family his past girlfriend began to fade as new sexy desires began to blossom.
For some reason Owen thought Michael would start to transform by now. It must be the magic that he gave him slowing the transformation down. He knew that it would happen but didn’t know when it will come. Owen moan as corrupted Michael was licking down to his big hairy balls and nibbled on the way up to his cock’s head. Owen began to rub the back of Michael’s head, when Michael with his right arm grabbed Owens left ball sack and squeeze causing Owen to moan louder. Owen felt that he was ready to come, then he said that’s right keep sucking it. Going to be big and strong. Then Owen’s cock stiffened and with a roar Owen came in Michael’s mouth.
Michael drank all of Owen’s corruptive cum, and felt his body begin to change. Because Michael was standing up the first thing to grow was Michael’s feet, is starting to get longer and wider length and tell his hairy feet were huge. Then the veins started pop out and spread and as they got to his lower legs they began to balloon out with muscle. When the veins spread to his thighs they grew as well tell they were bigger than a human’s head, making him look odd with big hairy muscular legs. Then the spread to his butt making it grow big firm muscle with a layer of fat. Michael moaned as the growth touched his balls and cock. Right before Owen’s eyes he saw Michael’s hard cock grew from 6 inches to 12 inches, doubling in size and his balls balloon out to the size of large oranges. Michael’s flat hairy belly began to harden and grow eight pack abs, that were sharp and defined even under short curly black hair. When the veins of growth got to his chest, he began to widen out to compensate the new growth of muscle. His hairy pecs thickening out with muscle as his dark nipples grew to the size of quarters and started pointing down. Owen didn’t see Michael’s back but knew it was winding and growing with muscle, as the veins reached his arms. Michael’s shoulders grew as his biceps ballooned out with muscles and tell they were the size of a basketball, then the veins carrying the growth reached his lower arms causing them to expand and then his hands began to grow and tell they were the size of baseball mitts. As the veins reached his neck, Owen can see Michael’s neck bulge with muscle, as his chin squared out his nose became rounder and blunt. With a flash of blue light markings appeared over the changed Michael.
Owen saw that Michael had light blue markings over his skin. Both biceps had to blue rings around them in between those rings’ zigzag markings, and the same markings on his middle thighs like his biceps. With two lightning marks on his right pec over his heart. With the concentration Michael using his new powers burned off some of his hair and tell he had a mohawk. Michael went up to Owen and gave him a big French kiss, rubbing their tongues together as they made out, rubbing his hands behind Owens back, and squeezing his hard cock against Owens. Owen felt his cock getting hard again as Michael broke the kiss. Michael licked his two fingers from his right hand, as he said” you’re going to take my thick fat hard cock up your asshole and you’re going to like it”. Owen felt the command of Michael’s voice as he put two fingers into Owens ass, making him moan in pleasure. After Michael widen Owens asshole, Owen been his back a little so that Michael could take his ass. Michael went behind Owen and with his right-hand slapped Owens ass cheek, making Owen growl and pain and pleasure. Michael put his thick fat 12-inch cock into Owens waiting hole. The pain and pleasure of Michael’s cock made Owen moan.
Then Michael began to thrust his thick hips, plunging his cock deeper into Owen’s ass. Owen grabbed his hard cock and moved is hips and rhythm with Michael. With both hands-on Owen shoulders Michael and Owen kept in rhythm, as they moaned and grunted in pleasure. Then Owen felt Michael began to ram harder and faster and as he did, so Owen began to rub his cock faster, and tell Michael came in Owen’s ass, causing Owen to squeeze his cock as he came shooting his cum on the floor. Michael with his hot breath whispered into Owens here and said thanks for this sexy gift.
Links to lonely small town
parts one:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/19581-a-lonely-small-town-part-one-bored-and-lonely-ogre/?tab=comments#comment-263961
part two:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/19593-a-lonely-small-town-part-two-ogre-needs-plumbing/?tab=comments#comment-264208

Link to part one:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/19581-a-lonely-small-town-part-one-bored-and-lonely-ogre/?tab=comments#comment-263961
A lonely small town: part two
Ogre needs plumbing
Owens was looking at a device called a cell phone, he picked up the small tablet with his big thick fingers, and marvel that it. Through Luke’s memories Owen discovered many wonders and opportunities. Owen wanted to get access to the Internet for its wealth of knowledge, but he needed electricity to do so. In fact, Owen needed a lot of things to turn his prison into a home. He believed that by corrupting a hacker he may get a new type of perspective which will allow him to destroy the magic that keeps him here and turn it this place into his domain. First things first Owen thought to himself, going to need to get some plumbing around here, and thanks to Luke’s memories he knows the man for the job. Looking at the screen of Luke’s phone Owen saw the name of Johnny Comepie. Owen knew that through the perspective of Luke that Johnny an old-time friend, betrayed him when his ex-girlfriend and Johnny were caught cheating. Owen said, “how would you like to fuck Johnny, Luke”. Luke looked up at his master Owen as he pulled his mouth off of Owen’s cock, and smiled at Owen.
Johnny was drunk and sad he just broke up with Alina. “That gold-digging witch taking money from me then dumping me, with that bill”, Johnny said in a drunken rage. Johnny stumbled around and went into an alley that he, Luke and some of their friends took to get to their homes. As he went through the alley something weird happened a suddenly it went dark for a second as if he blinked and then he was in a new place he’d never seen before. He was looking at an empty old small town. Then he was grabbed from behind by two strong hands and lifted in the air and carried off.
The next thing that Johnny knew he was in some kind of inn. Then he was lowered down on the wooden floor, with big meaty hands holding him down making him kneel. Then Johnny looked around and saw through the mirror his kidnapper, and in drunken horror he recognized Luke. But Luke was a smooth chin and wasn’t this big or this harry giant who towered over him. Johnny said “by God what happened to you. you’re only gone for a month, you’re a fucking monster”. Johnny felt Luke’s right arm began to slacken and then he heard a deep gravelly voice and then, Luke’s hand tightened again. “Hello Johnny welcome to my small town”, Owen said. Then Johnny following the voice saw a monster, he was huge and hairy with a huge barrel chest with huge thick muscular hairy arms with biceps the size of basketballs and hands were the size of baseball mittens, hairy thighs larger than a human head and a big muscle belly attached to a chest fool of black hair with a thick neck that was attached to his head that had thick hairy eyebrows, brown piercing eyes, a shaved head, with smooth dark mutton chops, highlighting his strong jaw is attached to a square chin, with thick lips that was partially covered by thick mustache under a big nose. The loincloth he where looked old and is big bear hairy feet, made him look like a brute of the cave man, by the look of his eyes Johnny could tell that he was intelligent and cunning.
Johnny said, “what have you done to Luke, your monstrous freak of nature”. Owen grinned and said, “what I’m going to do to you”. Johnny looked confuse, you mean that you’re going to turn me into some kind of steroid pumped freak of nature. Owen put his left hand behind his back and with magic pulled out a cum staying pair of white underwear and some rope. Owen kneeled, while Luke grabbed Johnny and turned him around so that Owen could tie Johnny’s arms and legs together. Once Johnny was tied up, Owen place the dirty underwear on Johnny’s face forcing him to breathe out of the cum stained underwear.
Owen smiled at the tide up Johnny. With Johnny’s short black hair, his and round nose, blue eyes he looked like that character named Mario from Luke’s memories but less fat and skinnier and a smooth-shaven face, but Owen was going to change that. Owen took off his loincloth, and Luke took off his cum stained underwear and placed it on top of Johnny’s head. Johnny could barely breathe through the smelly cum stained underwear. The smell was awful making Johnny tears up, and his nose to runny. Although Johnny somewhat sobered up his head was still foggy. Johnny could feel his mind getting foggy here as he breathed in the mask of underwear, his mind was trying to resist the corruption but in his drunken state it was an uphill battle. Johnny started to feel his dick to become hard, as he can feel the corruption seeping into his mind. Johnny’s love for women started to fade as the corruption reprogrammed him to love hot big hairy beefy men. He began loving the smell of the cum stained underwear, he opened his muffled mouth and began to lick at it. Then he felt the rope that round him being removed, then the three pairs of undergarments were removed from his face. Owen told Johnny to get up and strip his close off. Johnny couldn’t resist the command of this hot sexy ogre and began to strip. Owen grabbed his big fat hard cock and stroke. Owen thought to himself that Johnny is ready to be converted. When Johnny was done stripping, Owen had him come closer. Johnny began to lick at Owen’s big hairy muscle belly, as Luke was rubbing at his 10-inch-long cock. The completely naked Owen with his huge 10-inch-long cock and his large oranges size balls, and horny Johnny, was making Luke’s mouth water.
Johnny began to lick at Owen’s hairy belly, as he made his way of to Owens left nipple, and began to suck at it, making Owen moan in pleasure. The second that Johnny began to drink Owen’s milk, hair started growing all over his body giving him a pelt of black fur and sealing his fate. Johnny moved on to Owen’s right nipple and began to suck it. Owen said, “he is a drinker”. Owen had to force Johnny down from sucking his pump nipples, so that the main event can begin. Owen looked at Johnny’s face to find that he grew a big fluffy mustache with a goatee. Johnny started at the tip of Owen’s uncut cock and started to lick towards the balls, causing Owen to moan. When Johnny started back to the tip of Owen’s cock, he began to suck on it, and that is when Johnny began to grow. First it started from his face as his jaw began to square out, then it spread towards his neck causing it to grow with muscle and fat, his back and shoulders began to widen with muscle then the growth spread to his pecs causing them to widen and grow out with muscle and fat, his nipples pointed down as his pecs grew out. Then the changes spread to his arms and belly, his biceps ballooned out until they were the size of bowling balls forcing his lower arms and hands to grow to compensate. Johnny felt his belly balloon out with muscle and fat giving his belly a round appearance. When the growth started affecting his ass, Luke put his thick dick above it, in preparation of stuffing it in Johnny’s asshole. Luke was drooling at the site of Johnny’s hairy ass ballooning out with muscle and fat, as growth spread towards his thighs until they grew larger than a human’s head. Luke stopped his throbbing dick in Johnny’s fat ass, causing Johnny to moan in pleasure as he was still sucking Owen’s fat cock. Johnny’s legs finished as he felt the change into a sexy ogre. Then Johnny’s final growth began with his cock and balls, first his balls began to swell larger than large baseballs, as his cock grew from 5 inches hard to 9 inches hard. Then Johnny felt Owen straightened out and his balls clenched up as Owen came in Johnny’s mouth. Owen removed his fat cock from Johnny’s mouth, while Luke was still ramming Johnny’s ass. Luke and Johnny were moaning in pleasure of their sex, when Luke with both of his hands-on Johnny’s thick shoulders as Luke stiffened and came in Johnny’s ass causing Johnny to come all over the floor. Luke pulled his fat cock from Johnny’s ass, as he backed up and sat his butt on the stage while he watched Johnny lick up all of their cum off the floor.
Owen felt good about his newest ogre. With Luke and Johnny’s memories more opportunities appeared for Owen. Owen needed to find someone who can set up electrical systems.

A lonely small town: part one
bored and lonely ogre
Owen was a lonely and extremely bored ogre, sitting on a destroyed rooftop of the old dead mayor’s house. Owen contemplated the many years since he destroyed this small town, he couldn’t even remember the name of this small-town. Although the witch who cursed him was dead, he still is stuck in the area of the town. Owen still can hunt for food in the forest nearby, he can go far. Many years Owen had gained access to the witch’s spell and gain access to magic, but what to do with it. He could turn objects into food and vice versa, or use magic to control people, but there was no people, or even open portals and bring people and objects to him it’s been so long that he does it even know where people are. Killing the witch who cursed them was fun but was a short-lived revenge. It will still take time for the curse to wear off or to find the right ingredients to dispel it.
Owen looked at the destroyed town left in ruin from his rampage. Owen was Pondering what he would do for today, then he felt something, he closed his eyes and he used magically enhance senses, to discover that a human was nearby, and that the human would come close enough to the barrier that kept people away that he could capture the human. He concentrated to see who it was that was so near his territory. Then Owen knew who was coming, it was a male hiker. Owen could lead him to his death but had a better idea and more ambitious idea a more sexy idea. He knew that the hiker would arrive by nightfall. Owen used his magic to make sure that the hiker was stay on course, after that was done, he had to make the town look more presentable. By using the magic that he stole from the dead which and the magic books he found in the town, he began to clean up the town and refurbished it.
Owen looked into the large mirror, with his deep brown eyes and saw a unkept ogre. Magic can only control persons so far but for his plan to work he had to make the human feel welcome. First Owen shaved his head bald, using a razor and magic, then he cleaned up his black bushy mustache, he made sure that his sideburns were smooth and sharp. As Owen made sure his face was clean, he looked at his big barrel chest to see sexy black chest hair covering his huge thick pecs and his big muscular belly, making a treasure trail to his loincloth. With his big arms with biceps the size of small boulders with a sprinkling of his black hair covering his arms he removed his loincloth, to find his big fat meaty cock, and his big balls. Owen grabbed his loincloth, and removed it of his body, and sniffed it, only to find that the smell was potent. Owen smiled at the smell of his loincloth and gave his hairy armpits a big sniff. Owen knew that he would need his smelly loincloth to help to enact his plan. Using magic, he gathered some old cloth from the dead townspeople and made it into clothes that he could wear on his big body.
After Owen washed himself off, he went and grabbed a cup, and placed it near his left nipple and began to milk it. As Owen’s milk went into the cup, he was an aroused. Owen knew that his milk would be important for the human’s transformation into an ogre. After Owen gathered his milk he, grabbed and placed on himself Brown pants that covered up his big hairy thighs, after that he grabbed a white shirt placed on his hairy muscular body, then he grabbed a leather vest and placed on some boots he made, and finally grabbed a big brown wool hat, and placed it on his head. With his close on, Owen began to put his plan in motion, first he prepared a bed for his guest, then he placed his loincloth under the bed and cast a spell on it so that it wouldn’t smell anything, leaving the loincloth as a contingency. Then he made sure that all of the food was ready, and that the water and beer had some of his milk and it. For one of his last things he did was cast illusion on himself to change his appearance into an old man.
Luke was hiking in these mountain areas to get away from his ex-girlfriend who ruined his life, who got him fired from his job and kicked out of his apartment building. Luke was lucky to get his paperwork and some of his money on him but was for he couldn’t even get a ride and was forced to take this trail on these mountains to the next town to escape her influence. Luke didn’t know why he was still walking it was getting closer tonight and soon it may be too dark to see. It was if something was compelling Luke to go this way, even now that something was making them feel uneasy. Then look came to a clearing and saw an old town. The town was nearly empty but one of the building in the middle-had lights coming out of the window. Luke was drawn to that building like a moth to a flame. Luke didn’t notice how the other buildings were cold and empty as he went up to the building with lights coming out of it. As Luke opened the door that looked old, he realized that he was in an old inn. When Luke entered the inn, he heard a bell ring behind him as the door closed. Luke looked around the building and saw a bunch of old tables and chairs next to a big fireplace next to the fireplace was a stage for performers. “Hello traveler my name is Owen and I am the innkeeper of this fine establishment”. Luke turned his face towards the noise, and as he did, he saw a bunch of stools next to a counter, and behind that counter, an old man with a leather brown vest, with a white T-shirt. The old man had sharp white sideburn with a bushy white mustache, thick white hairy eyebrows that nearly covered his brown eyes, with tan skin, and had a lean build and around 5 feet tall. “You look tired my friend why don’t you stay here for the night. Maybe I could make you some food or give you Something to drink”, Owen said.
Luke was more tired than hungry and didn’t think it peculiar that Owen was the only one in this inn or town, but he didn’t care. Luke said I would like to purchase a room for the night. Then Owen said that would be $20 in cash. Luke brought out his wallet and brought out $20 placed it on the counter. Owen grabbed the keys to Luke’s room and gave it to him. As Luke went upstairs, Owen grabbed the 20-dollar bill in curiosity he never seen this type of currency before and opened his sack filled with coins and dropped the 20-dollar bill inside. Owen wondered how asking for a couple bronze coins gave him a piece of paper, but figured it was a quirk of the translation spell. As Luke went into his room, he noticed that are no light bulbs only candles. For some strange reason the candles were already let. There was a really big bed Luke thought it could’ve been a king size bed, it had red velvety blankets and looked inviting. In the corner of the room he saw a big black pot then next to the dresser was with bucket had a near next to it, and on the dresser, there was a big mirror on it. Luke dropped his hikers backpack that was filled with his supplies, next to the dresser. Then Luke began to undress, and as he looked into the dressers mere, he saw himself. He had short brown hair, dark Brown eyes, with smooth skin and with a 5 o’clock shadow, he wasn’t fat or skinny just average. That night He slept in bed naked and not knowing why he did so.
As soon as Luke fell asleep on his bed the spell on the ogre’s loincloth faded away and its musk began to disperse into the room. Luke’s dreams were of hot hairy muscular men. The musk of the ogre’s loincloth was now beginning to corrupt Luke, because Luke was asleep, he couldn’t try to resist. Luke woke up with morning wood. Luke grabbed his 4-inch hard dick and began to relieve himself using the empty black pot for a toilet. Luke was in a daze as his mind was foggy. His dick still hard and throbbing he went downstairs to the common room naked. When Luke came downstairs, he saw that the room was empty that all of the chairs and tables were gone. Then he saw a cup of warm milk. Luke walked up to the counter and grabbed the cup of milk and blindly drink it.
When Luke drank the milk, he suddenly felt itchy all over, he started to grow hair all over his body, and tell he had a new pelt of sexy brown hair, and then he felt his facial hair grow. His 5 o’clock shadow became a glorious full thick beard, the hair on his eyebrows grew as bushy well. Then he noticed that there was a big Mirror on top of the stage. When he got to the mirror and saw himself, he became more roused the site, at his hairy body. Then Luke saw Owen through the mirror, Owen was big 10 feet tall, oranges skin, big with a hairy barrel chest, with thick muscular pecs, and nipples pointing down, with thick muscular shoulders, supporting his thick neck, his biceps were huge bigger than Luke’s head, with a pronounce muscle gut, with thighs bigger then tree trunks, and with big hands and feet to boot. Luke saw that there is hair all over Owens body. Owen’s cock was 10 inches long and thick as a soda can, erect and balls the size of large oranges. Luke saw Owens face it looked the same as before only he looked a lot younger and brutish, with no white hair, only black.
Luke turned around to see Owen licking his lips with his thick tongue. Luke didn’t care how this old man became this huge hairy sexy muscle beast. Luke walked towards Owen’s thick uncut cock head and began to lick it. As Luke began to lick and suck on Owen’s cock he began to change. First, Luke began to grow taller from 6 feet to 10, then Luke felt his balls grow to the size of large oranges, then he felt his cock get longer and thicker, then he felt his face change as his jaw became square matching Owens, then he began to grow with muscle and fat. Owen saw Luke’s back and shoulders began to widen out with muscle, then Luke felt his pecs begin to grow and widen until his nipples became the size of quarters and started pointing down. Then his biceps began to balloon out and tell they were the size of large basketballs, when the growth spread to his lower arms, and then Luke felt his hands growing. Then Luke felt his belly begin to swell with muscle and fat, and as his belly grew, his ass gained muscle and small layer of fat. Owen was rubbing the back of Luke’s head as he was changing, and the more he changed the more he could take his cock. Owen saw that Luke’s thighs were growing with muscle he saw the veins under his pelt of brown hair, then that growth is affected his lower legs and finally crept up to his feet, making his feet grow enough to hold his new weight. Owen pulled his hard dick out of Luke’s mouth. Luke got up and growled at Owen, for the loss of his tasty treat. Owen slowly grabbed Luke who is now an ogre and turned him around to face the mirror. Luke was huge with his 10 feet tall height and muscular arms, with a long brown beard and exuded masculinity. Luke rubbed his muscular hairy belly and looking at the mirror. Luke gave a double bicep poses watching how his biceps bulged then, Owen came behind him and licked the back of his neck making Luke moan in pleasure. Then Owen placed his big fat cock over Luke’s big ass, using his precum as lubricant for Luke’s asshole. The pain and then pleasure that Luke felt as Owen’s cock plunged into Luke’s ass, made Luke moan even louder. Then Luke grabbed his throbbing cock, with his right hand and began to rub it, as Owen began ramming his thick cock backwards and forwards in rhythm. Luke with his deeper voice said, “my ex never made me feel this good”. Then Owen said” I’m about to fuck your brains out”, as Owen felt that he was ready to come. Owen began to moan as he ram Luke’s ass, faster and faster and tell with a roar Owen came. When Luke felt Owen’s hot cum in his ass, he came. Roaring as his cum shot out and hit the mirror covering it in the white ogre cum.
Luke was on the stage licking his cum off of the mirror. Owen started walking towards the kitchen to grab some food for them to eat. As Owen was walking toward the kitchen, he pondered the knowledge that he gained after fucking Luke’s brains. He now knew where to get more people and now knew about technology and found it fascinating. Once Owen grabbed a cart full of food, he brought out to common room to find, Luke looking at himself in the mirror and flexing. Owen smiled and said breakfast.

Hi, this will be my first story posted on here, this is my story called 'A Thing Called Curiosity' which i had originally posted on metabods.com a couple of years ago
It involves forced muscle growth and absorption, the story also contains a few images in order to help with the visualisation, please tell me if the images add or take away from the story.
I hope you guys like it and any feedback would be appreciated!
- A Thing Called Curiosity -
It was a late Autumn day, and it was a particularly cool day, about 27 degrees Celsius, and quite dry wind a lot of wind so it felt like 24 degrees, Cameron liked going out on jogs in the morning, and it was a perfect day for it with this nice cool weather, so he put on a hoodie and just compression shorts and headed out, since it was still 4am he guessed there wouldn’t be many people on the street so he could wear whatever he wanted, especially on a holiday and in the weekend, everyone would be sleeping in anyways.
Cameron was a 19 year old young man from a town called Willemstad in the country of Curaçao, Kingdom of Larousse, it was a very small country, only about 150.000 inhabitants, and it was a generally hot and a very humid place since it was an island surrounded by water, but during the Autumn and Winter seasons it would rain a great amount and it would make the island a generally quite cool place.
Cameron was still in High School, he was an average boy in every sense, average grades, average at sports, had normal friends, but he was quite a handsome lad, he was mixed race from having both side of the mother and father coming from already mixed lineages, which gave him a very unique look, he looked Iranian but with golden tanned skin, jet black semi-wavy hair, great eyebrows and grey coloured eyes, he had those naturally pink full lips.
He had no facial hair whatsoever, but he did have medium/long hair with a slight wave, it was jet black but with a few patches that grew brown naturally and he kept it in a simple pompadour hairstyle, he also had a generally hairy body, but it looked good, he had long thin soft jet black hairs on his arms and between his pecs, the rest of his pecs were hairless naturally, he also has a treasure trail that started just above belly button and went down to his crotch, and his legs were covered with long semi-wavy long black hair that was thicker on the lower legs and thinned out as it went up to the crotch area.
His body was athletic, nothing too special but he certainly didn’t need it, he was tone and was 175cm tall (5’7”) and weighed a decent 68,9kg (152lbs) so he was quite the eye candy but he was humble so he never became the arrogant type of dreamboat in High School although it didn’t stop girls (and a few guys) from wanting him.
One thing he was always fascinated by were the physique of world class body builders though, he wanted to be one, or meet one and be able to touch those incredible muscles but he didn’t know why, he didn’t have a particular desire to be one except he just felt like he needed to, but with school, family, job and etc. he didn’t have the luxury to invest time in body building, besides he was content with body as it was, or so he told himself, with the images of body builder physiques always in the back of his mind at all times.
Back on the jog, it was 4:59am, you could barely start seeing the sky on the horizon turning orange/red as the sunrise was approaching, he had been jogging for almost an hour, when he decided it was time to start heading back, he quite sweaty and his hoodie and compression shorts were soaked, so he decided to take off the hoodie to try and dry off a bit.
He decided to take a short cut through the wilderness, he was by the beach and going up back through the jogging path would take too long, so he just cut through the wood to get home faster.
As he was walking through the plants after about 20 minutes the sun was almost out and the light made everything much clearer when he noticed a tiled rooftop over the plants to his right, he was a curious boy who liked exploring so he couldn’t resist and decided to go check out the old building.
As he approached the little house he could clearly see it was 17th century house, Curaçao had many old colonial buildings and some smaller ruins were still in the wild lost and forgotten to time, but this one seemed in decent shape but the doorway was bricked up. “Strange,” he thought, “if it’s bricked up, then someone used it not too long ago.” That only sparked his curiosity even more, so he looked for a way in, the windows were also sealed shut except for one where it seemed to have given away, so jumped on the ledge and then stepped inside the little house.
It was dusty and smelled like it had been closed off for a while but with the little light that entered through the window he could see a bit of furniture, and a bookcase filled with books, he saw a kitchen but not pans and dishes but beakers, so he thought, “Maybe a doctor lived here.” It certainly looked old, at least 30 years, so he grabbed one of the books from the bookshelf, and read, it was about genes, hormones, tissue transplants and drugs. “Hmm, it seems more like a biochemist then a medical doctor,” he thought to himself when he heard some creaking and the rotted old bookcase he took the book from sank into the floor on the right side, it surprised him since the floor seemed like it was made from concrete covered with tiles, but he noticed that only under the bookcase it was a wooden plank floor “so there’s something more under the house?” again curiosity got the best of Cameron and pulled the bookshelf out the hole and moved it to one side. “If i take out 3 more planks I should be able to fit through there,” he thought to himself as he shined a light from his phone down the hole.
After taking out the needed planks before he jumped in the whole he heard some voices, it were people and they were near, he didn’t want someone to find him and ruin his fun since he doubted he should be in the, so he jumped in the hole where a staircase awaited him to his surprise, he shined with phone and the staircase seemed to go down a few more steps, he couldn’t see far since the phone’s screen isn’t as bright as a flashlight would be, then he turned back and peaked out the hole and he heard the voices of the other morning joggers and decided to just drag the small cabinet against the wall over the hole, the cabinet was bigger and hid the entire hole so if someone also got curious of the house they wouldn’t find this secret passageway.
He then turned his attention to where he was, it seemed the little house had a basement, so he walked down the stairs, it was about 16 steps which lead him to steal door. “This door doesn’t look 30 years old, it’s dusty but must be 15 years old at best,” he said out loud as he examined the door with his phone. “The plot thickens,” he said as he found the 2 latches that held the door closed, he pulled one back and then the other, and he opened the door so a very dark room, the room felt hot, about 29 degrees but very humid so it felt like 31 degrees or a summer day. “Good thing I took off my hoodie,” he said.
He couldn’t see anything and he guessed the room was quite expansive since he couldn’t shine at anything with lights except an industrial looking steel pathway that lead forwards, so he touched around the sides of the door looking for a switch but couldn’t find one, so he decided to walk forward on the pathway, albeit carefully, which after a few steps he found a stand with switches on it from what he could make out and he could barely see something a little more ahead, so he went for and said, “What the hell, hope this is it,” and flicked 1 switch then the second one, and third, and fourth and fifth switches up, he heard the flicker of an old light then one grid of lights from behind him turned on then another over his head and so on towards the front, and he saw what he had discovered.
“this is incredible!” he yelled out with a grin on his face. The lights showed the pathway that lead to a central octagonal shaped part which looked like a research or control station for something, and there was a bundle of pipes that lead to it and then a huge amount of different wires and pipes then lead out of it so another part further in front which he could somewhat see but it was still in the only dark part of the room.
He walked over to the control station where there was a ring of monitors that turned on in the inner circumference of the octagon, and in the middle and tower where all the pipes and wires lead in and the back out. The screens slowly booted up one by one.
He looked at the largest monitor and saw different buttons and controls. “I guess this one controls other things,” and he looked at one that read ‘illuminate tanks’ he couldn’t guess what that could mean so he pressed it because the only places still needing illumination was the dark unclear part further back from the octagon.
What he saw made his jaw drop, it was an area a staircase down from the octagonal platform where he was standing, and there is where he saw 5 large glass vessels filled with a transparent liquid, they were each illuminated by individual internal lights and a central large overhead lighting system over the central floor area with the glass vessels in a circular array around it. But the truly shocking thing he saw was the contents of the glass vessels, it was 5 enormous men, it was 5 men with the physiques he always admired and craved, it was 5 body builders with incredible muscle size, one in each tank.
Cameron was awestruck and walked down the steel stairs that lead to the tank area, he managed to get his head to come back to earth as he started to analyse the area where the tanks were situated. There were large wire bundles and various tubes that lead from the control platform over to the tank are which split overhead and came down over each of tanks. “I guess they feed power and that liquid to the tanks and I guess transport information to, and from the tanks to the computers up there,” he said speaking out loud. But there were other wires and tubes that lead other places, like from each of the tanks a tube went overhead and converged into a single pipeline which lead overhead to the middle of the area and then had a different tube that came down and it had an oddly shaped nozzle. There were also tubes that come from under the floor and up to 2 stands, one had 1 tube and the other held 2 tubes about 3meters (10ft) apart from each other and in between them on the floor there was a part of the floor made from metal and was an odd shape, kind of like the silhouette of a dolphin seen from above or the reclining dentist chairs but this was just flat so just the contour. And there were 3 little openings on the metal plate on the floor, one at the top, and two, one on each side about halfway down.
His attention shifted to the men in the tanks so he approached the first one to the right, he read what a plate on the glass read “Subject number 5 – NEN code: 300977 – Height: 179cm (5’10” – Weight: 106,2kg (234lbs) – BF percentage: 11% – Age: 31”
“Wow that is enormous, and so heavy.” Cameron found it even more appealing when a body builder wasn’t just big but also quite heavy for their size. He further examined the man in the tank, he was naked and suspended in the liquid in a limp posture like he was just floating under water, and he had two tubes probing his body, a thin one went inside his mouth which he guess provided life support, a very large one just laid on the bottom of the tank, and there was one that came down his back and went into his anus, the tube was transparent and rather thick, the diameter must have been about 4cm (1.5inches) or 14cm circumference (5inches), Cameron didn’t know why but looking at the huge pipe enter the body builder anus made him feel warmer and his heart started racing, and he also got quite the hard on and since he was wear compression shorts, the hard on was quite evident, Cameron never really felt any attraction to other men, but then again not much towards a woman either, the only that made his heart race was thinking about muscled physiques, he confused as to what he was feeling and how to interpret it but one he was sure about is that he liked it.
Still with a hard on Cameron looked around him to see that all the men also had the same tubes probing them in them in the same places and the one at the bottom of the tanks, and all of them had information plates describing their weight, age, size etc.
He really wanted to know what this place was so turned around and went back up the stairs to the control platform.
He researched and looked, he went to books, papers and file after file on the monitors, he saw formulas, designs for machines, plans, schematics, theories and read document after document. He figured out that this place was built by a doctor L. J. Andrews privately and he was obsessed with ever larger muscular physiques, and he was designing a machine that could take muscles from one person and give it to another person, namely himself, and he went through a lot of research and development to design the method to achieve his goal, but ultimately although he finished successfully his research a couple of years ago he had to abandon it, even though the machine and formulas were done and correct, and he had “acquired” the donators for the muscle (acquired here meaning he kidnapped the 5 body builders) there was a major downside to the experiment, no matter how much he crunched the data and recalculated, there was only a 0.7% chance a subject could survive the muscle impregnation “there is less then 1% chance of survival?” Cameron muttered, a chill running down his spine. “There is more than 99% chance of dying if someone used this machine, no wonder the doctor abandoned it, I guess I should leave this buried away as I found it.” With that Cameron decided to leave that place.
As he put the books and papers back into their places and closed the files on the various monitors, as he was closing the last file on the monitor next to the staircase that lead to down to the tanks, he accidently opened a control panel as he looked down at the tanks and pondered what it would be like to have a physique like that. Then as he was turning around he slipped on a patch of grease on the floor that he didn’t notice before, lunged his had forward to grab anything to keep him from falling down the stair, and he grabbed the screen he was working on but his hand slipped off of it and he tumbled down the stairs and rolled onto the floor below, he was dazed and disoriented from the bumps his head took and he didn’t notice he was laid out over the metal plate on the floor, as he was recollecting his thoughts and trying to figure out what happen he heard an audible *beep* and he felt a cold band stretch over his forehead and adjust tightly, he didn’t understand what was happening, suddenly two other cold bands also stretched over both his wrists and tightening down holding his arms in place just as the forehead band held his head down.
As this was happening he finally came back to his senses, and then it hit him “fuck!! I must have pressed something when I grabbed the monitor!!”. He realised he might have turned on the machine with a less then 1% survival rate, and now he was stuck in it with no way to escaped! As he came to this morbid conclusion he felt something else happening which he directed his attention to.
The plate on the floor he was strapped to started rising from the ground, it stopped at about 1m (about 3ft) above the floor, then one of the two tubes in the direction his feet were, started moving, it was the slender tube and it had a needle attachment, Cameron was scared but there was nothing he could do, he struggled and struggle and fought with the bands restraining him as the needle got closer to his body, but they wouldn’t come loose, so he had no choice but to resign himself to the situation and hope that he somehow makes it out alive as he laid on the cold examination table-like thing he was strapped to. The tube and needle reached up to about halfway to the side of his right thigh and pricked him and inject a small amount of a liquid with a blue hue to it and then receded back to its original position, the prick didn’t hurt too much and he was feeling drowsy or drugged Cameron wondered “well what is it going to do?” just as he finished that sentenced he felt the bands on wrists and head loosen up, and then they receded as well into the table. “Maybe the process takes place in stages, maybe I’ll be okay if I leave right now,” but after saying that and trying to get off the table he found himself unable to move his limbs. “What the fuck is going on here? Move. Move!” he yelled at his body but it didn’t he could only move his neck freely, his extremities seem to have been numbed by the injection, they felt normal in every way except they felt incredibly weak, like when your muscles are fatigued after you have worked them out extensively and you can’t even lift them up afterwards, that’s how they felt, and so he started worrying again and he remembered. “I forsake myself to it, guess I was just too happy that it stopped but I guess it’s not done yet with me yet,” he laid there for about a minute before something else happened.
The second tube that was next to the one with the needle started moving, it was a much bigger tube, it was a dark grey colour, and it was as thick as the ones in the tanks that went in the anus of the body builders, and it had a strange attachment, and as it got closer he could make out what that attachment was, it was in the shape of a penis head, and the rest of the tube was ribbed with lines and bumps, making the whole length of the tube resemble the shaft of a penis, as it got closer to his body Cameron felt the table shifting, it moved his legs up from under the calves, into a position that resemble the position of sitting on a chair but on his back, and he realised the tube really was meant for his anus, he was scared just like before for the needle but a little voice in the back of his mind told him he wanted to try and know what it felt like, and his penis became erect in a second as he remembered what he felt when he saw it inside the bodybuilder, he was afraid but he wanted to feel it, the desire to experience it grew and grew, and before he knew he felt the cold tube shaped like a penis touch the outside of his anus, it was cold and sent shivers down his body.
When the tube reached the outside of the anus it secreted a little bit of liquid that felt like gel so Cameron assumed it was lubrication, and then it really started, the machine started apply more pressure to open up the sphincter muscle, and it did, it finally reached the point where the anus couldn’t stay closed and the head popped right in and Cameron felt like something he never knew he could feel, it hurt a lot as it worked its way inside but it felt so good at the same time, it pried open his hole because of how wide the tube was but Cameron was enjoying and for a moment even thought, “Maybe this isn’t so bad,” a thought that quickly vanished as he felt the tube go deeper and deeper, it only hurt at the anus but he certainly felt it in his insides as it straightened the curves in his colon onto it until he was shocked to see it start to show as it protruded through his abs, and it protruded more and more till it finally stopped, it was pushing out onto his skin a full inch if not a little bit more, it didn’t hurt or feel like it hurt him in any ways but it was very incredible, Cameron sighed a sigh of relief since he thought the worst was over, but how wrong he was.
A few minutes went by and nothing happened, but then out of nowhere he heard a machine start to make sound, it sounded like a pump to be exact, and he felt a little vibration inside from the tube he had in his abdomen, he knew something else was going to happen. And that’s when it really started.
He saw body builder number 2 to his left side twitch slightly, and then the calf of the man suddenly shrunk down to just skin and bones! He gasped, it was unbelievable, the man’s huge left calf muscle, which looked to be at least 54cm (21inches) suddenly deflated, but then he noticed the tube that went into the man’s anus engorge at the anus, it was carrying a lump and transported it up until he couldn’t see it anymore, after a few seconds suddenly a lump appeared at the base of the tube that went inside Cameron “what is that?….” he thought to himself and the lump moved up the tube and it went inside him and he saw it then come the head that he could clearly see through his abdomen and the lump moved down his left leg and where his calf was and then suddenly engorged to four times the size of the lump in an very painful wave which made him cringe but he noticed suddenly he had developed calves that were about 41cm big (6 inches) and that’s when it hit him, the lump was the man’s calf and it transported it to his own body, albeit some of the size is lost in the process, then he noticed 4 other lumps consecutively show up moving up the tube and into his ass, which aroused him more as each one penetrated him, then he saw them come out the head of the tube into his abdomen and he watched as they started moving towards his left leg again under his skin, when he raised his head and looked at the legs of the other body builders he noticed they had all lost all the muscle mass in their left lower legs, and when he turned his view back to his left leg it was just as the 4 lumps merged and with a wave of pain started fusing and becoming his own muscle, the pain was like that of having a bone broken but localised to where the muscle was being absorbed only while at the same time feeling like having multiple orgasms one after another. It made Cameron grind his teeth and arch back with a tear flowing out of his eye, and his cock so hard and going wild ripped right through his compression shorts to full mast!
And as the wave of pain and arousal subsided after about 6 seconds (the longest of his entire life) he was left breathing heavily and sweating profusely, then he looked down to be amazed at what happened, there was his left lower leg, with a 76cm (30inch) mass of muscle, he was amazed, awestruck by the sheer size, the striated muscle fibres visible through the skin, and the large bulging pumped up veins that covered it, it made his cock rage like a wild animal. It was beautiful.
But as he was preoccupied admiring the beauty that had become part of his body the machine seemed to pick up the pace and started working faster. The sound of the machine working faster finally got Cam’s attention, as he looked up at the men he saw body builder 1 through 4 had deflated left upper legs, and as he reached body builder 5 he saw his left upper leg suddenly deflate too, all his thigh muscles just disappeared and he noticed the lump again exit his body through the tube, then he saw it start happening to the man’s right lower leg, then upper leg, and as he turned around it had happened to the other men as well, he knew what was coming next and he feared it yet desperately wanted to go through with it, the voice in his head that told him he wanted it had grown louder and louder and was overpowering the fear.
Then the lumps started appearing, 4 of them in a file came up the tube and flowed into his asshole, arousing him and making his cock jerk, he saw them then protrude through his abdomen and start making their way to his left upper leg where they merged and again a surge of pain and pleasure flooded his system driving him wild as the muscle expanded and became part of his body, but Cam’s desire for the muscle was making him bare the pain so he could watch the wonderful thing that was happening to his body, his fear almost entirely subdued by the erotic desire to have those muscles.
Cameron’s eyes were marvelled at what he saw, the muscle expanded and became his now 109cm (43 inch) left thigh, the sight made him reach orgasm and he cummed all over himself with more cum the he had ever seen before, then even though still partially lost in the pleasure more lumps appeared and started making their way to his right lower legs, then more lumps and at a faster rate started appearing, going to his upper legs, lower legs, left glute, right glute, each of his 8 individual abs, Apollo’s belt, left then his right pec, forearms, biceps, triceps, lats, delts, traps, each time making the muscle, or arms or legs contract with the expanding muscles. Every single individual muscle group, one after another, he saw as the muscles disappeared off of the bodies of the once body builders around him and come into his body and start being absorbed by him, every surge of unbelievable pain, every wave of erotic pleasure, he came again, and again, and again as the pleasure was unbearable as he saw his body parts engorge with monstrous mass, the muscle inflating like balloons, the muscle fibres showing through the paper-thin stretched skin, the veins growing, engorging and spreading all over his muscles, thickening with blood and testosterone from those 5 men, it was a sight to behold.
When Cameron finally managed to came back to his senses after the thrill ride of pleasure he took, he was, needless to say, overjoyed by his body, muscles with size beyond what any mister Olympia could ever dream of achieving, veins as thick as ropes spread all over his muscles protruding and pulsating with blood, feeding them, all glistening from all the cum he shot over himself which only made his body more attractive, and the compression shorts you ask? Nowhere to be seen, they had exploded off of his engorging muscled body with only a few tatters stuck under his enormous glutes. Cameron was more than amazed and he was especially enjoying the huge veins that appear all over his muscles, he was covered in them, and they were massive and pulsated with testosterone, and the clearly visible muscle fibres that were clear as day to the eye, he loved it with all his might, but the ride wasn’t over just yet…..
While Cam appreciated his new given body he noticed something weird start happening, the five tanks holding the now anorexic looking men that were once beautiful examples of muscle at its best. The five men started dissolving into the liquid and the liquid changed from transparent to a really thick-looking white almost gel-like substance. Then he heard an automated sounding voice from the computer say ‘DNA impregnation complete, beginning stage 2’ “WHAT? I’ve only gone through stage one yet, after all of this?!” he exclaimed, when he saw two much larger bulges move up the pipe that went inside of him, they were coming together in a pair, one next to each other and he felt them stop right at his anus, he then turned his attention up above his head where he heard rattling and as he turned his eyes upwards he saw the pipe dangling from above with the weird attachment, which was just like the cock head attachment the one inside him has, start moving down. He was again afraid yet again uncertain of what might happen next, his heart racing, and him body sweating profusely yet again.
He tried to move his head since the pipe was coming straight down at his face when the band which had previously retracted appeared again and held his forehead firmly down, there was no avoiding it.
The cockhead shaped nozzle of the tube touched Cam’s lips after it made its way down next to Cam’s head then up again to meet his mouth which he refused to open and allow it to enter, so the pressure increased more and more and his lips finally gave way, the long, thick, rubbery tube made its way into his mouth, reach the back of his throat, but before his gag reflects could even kick in it made its way down his throat and it kept going down, more and more as he saw more of it disappear in front of him into his mouth, he guessed he had swallowed about 30cm (1 foot) of it before it stopped, then like in unison both machines started doing something……
The one that had violated his now rock hard bubble ass and protruded through his now steel cut solid 8-pack abs started retreating from his ass, he was relieved thinking the approximately 40cm (16 inches) of tube that was inside of him was finally leaving his body, but as the head was just about to leave his hole, the machine re-adjusted itself to a more pronounced 90° angle and started making its way back inside, until it reached the base of Cam’s hard cock with a painful pressure, then the pressure increased and it hurt more and more, then he felt a really hot sensation in his crotch like he was in a hot bath, and although in pain he saw something amazing, the tube’s cockhead started expanding and entering the base of his cock, his eyes couldn’t believe it, as he bit his lips from the pain, but he wouldn’t stop looking at what was happening, it made its way painfully up the shaft stretching it to the 14cm (5 inch) circumference of the tube, and he saw the thicker and wider head leading the way, stretching and engorging it until it reach and stretched the 7inch cockhead of Cam’s penis, then the pain increased as it started stretched longer, and longer, it went on and on but it did so while sending waves of pleasure to Cam’s brain, it was delicious, it stretched to a full rock hard, massive length of 40cm (16inches) then stopped when the two large bulges, each about the size of an orange, were absorbed into the ball sack, and as it was absorbed, ropes of veins grew onto them and he started feeling the breeze on his stiff hot dick, it had become part of his body as well Cameron realised in a disbelieving yet still joyous shock. This huge, thick, hot, hard piece of man meat, was all his, he jerked it to see if it was true and it jerked, it was more than he ever dreamed off. The rest of the tube that was behind the huge bulges that became his balls, retreated outside to their original position next to the needle.
That’s when a different noise caught Cam’s attention “There is still more?” he thought to himself, but without any fear now, he was now determined to see this through, this accident had given him the muscles and the cock he could only ever dream off, he wants it all now and he going to thoroughly enjoy it. It seems the muscles and cock not only enhanced his body but also his ego had been boosted up, and he liked it.
Then he noticed the white liquid that formed from the men who were once in the tanks starting draining, the level was going down inside the tanks, when he felt the tube that went down his throat start vibrating a little and so he looked up. He saw through the transparent tube a white liquid moved downwards in the tube and it went into his mouth and he felt the flow of the liquid through his throat and as it pumped out into his chest, and he felt something strange, but in his pecs, so he looked at them and saw them swelling and pulsating and it plunge him into an orgasmic thrill ride of pleasure, it was a magnificent sensation, and he arched back from how erotic it felt while his mammoth dick jerked up and down.
The tube kept pumping the liquid inside of him and into his pecs and the pecs swelled to twice their size then stop swelling but kept contracting with every massive pump into them, and Cam’s from the corner of his eye even though he was barely able to think from the pleasure he was in could see the tanks slowly drain empty, which took he could only guess was around half an hour, half an hour of toe curling, orgasmic bliss, when it started to subside he was surprised he managed to stay sane after en experience like that, and slowly the pleasure started dying down and the pumps became less intense, which is when he finally noticed that his pecs did not shrink down, but stayed at the doubled size, and looked gorgeously tight and hard, but his nipples had grown to almost triple their thickness and protruded more than 2 cm (1 inch) now and were as stiff as a hot cock.
As he admired them he felt the tube retreating from him and as the head left his mouth the last bit of the liquid that was left in the tube, about a litre, pour into his mouth filling it up and then pour all over his face, and it tasted like warm, deliciously sweet and salty honey as he swallowed it down, and he recognised the smell and knew it right away that it was steamy cum, he never tasted it before or anything that tasted as delicious, it was all over his rosy lips and felt good on his face. At the same time the part of the table holding his legs up in the air lowered back down, and as it did he was regaining the feeling back in his legs and arms, and he tried to move, and he did, he managed to get off of the table and the first thing he could bring himself to do was touch himself, touch himself all over, feel the muscles up, grasp his beastly pecs and dig his fingers into the solid flesh, slide his fingers over the striations on his legs, to pas his hand over his marble abs, to feel up the ropes of veins on his 40 cm (16 inch) cock, to grope his massive balls bigger than a baseball each.
All of this massively aroused him which is when he felt his chest and abs start getting wet and he looked down at his shelf-like pecs and saw something fantastic, cum was coming out of his nipples in a stream, and grabbed his left pec and squeezed and a long squirt came out of it, more than 10 times as cum in that squirt then in a regular man’s ejaculation. He squeezed again this time catching the cum and he doesn’t know why but an almost euphoric hunger came from within him for that cum and licked it all clean off of his hand, and it was delicious, so he squeezed again, and again, and again, licking it up each time, and each time the quantity increased until every squirt released about half a cup of cum, yet his pecs didn’t shrink down, nor did it feel like it was running out of cum, it just kept producing more until it satisfied his hunger.
As he finished up his meal Cameron looked to the stairs for a way out, to go out into the world as a new man, and enjoy every moment of his new life. His new life of monstrous muscles, that no man would ever be able to match or surpass again, and to be the epitome of lust, beauty and strength.
The End........ ?

Damon was up against a hard deadline at work when he felt the vibration in his pocket. The brochure design was due by the end of the day, so he really didn't have a spare moment to chat on the phone. Still, he should at least check to see who was calling.
Slipping the iPhone from his pocket, he saw the name "Quinn Brooks" and Quinn's excruciatingly handsome face. Damon didn't often get calls from Quinn -- Damon was usually the one reaching out to "bother" Quinn -- so he figured it must be urgent. He raised the phone to his ear while continuing to work one-handed.
"What's up, Quinn?"
"I need your help. I've got an audition for a soap tomorrow and I'm really freaking out about it. You're the only person I could think of to call." Quinn did indeed sound stressed, which was unusual. Quinn tended to be the most easygoing person that Damon knew.
"Calm down. I'm in the middle of a project here, but I should be done by six. Where can I meet you?"
"Just come to my apartment. Really appreciate it, man." Quinn hung up.
Damon went back to work, but his work on the brochure was decidedly half-assed as he wondered what could be bothering Quinn so much. At 5:59, Damon saved his file, emailed it to his boss and headed out the door.
As the sluggish rush-hour traffic betwen Brentwood and Hollywood redefined the word "rush", Damon couldn't stop thinking about Quinn. They had met in college working on a production of "A Streetcar Named Desire". Damon, a senior studying graphic design, worked behind the scenes, helping with the sets and costumes and also creating the poster for the show, while Quinn, a junior theater major, played the Brando role of Stanley Kowalski. Quinn definitely had the magnetism and physicality for the role, gifted as he was with a hard-edged masculine face and a naturally muscular body that required little upkeep at the gym. But as Damon observed the early rehearsals, he wasn't sure Quinn would cut it. Quinn was so good-natured, friendly and low-key, it seemed impossible that he could find within himself the anger and menace it took to bring Stanley to life.
Only when Quinn started trying on costumes did he start to find his performance. When he was just Quinn Brooks, big man on campus, standing on that stage in a polo shirt, chinos and Nikes, he was just a lackluster guy reading lines. But once he put on vintage tweed slacks with suspenders and a too-snug tank top, things began to click. Some Oxford shoes that his grandfather had worn which he found in the attic back home made him feel more grounded. Switching from wearing his usual briefs to period-appropriate boxer shorts made him feel more authentically like Stanley. Whoever said "clothes make the man" was dead right in this case, while lack of clothes brought out the animal. The director was aiming for a look close to Brando's in the film version, with Quinn wearing a soiled and torn tank top during the famous "Stella!!!" scene, but Quinn discovered in rehearsal that he could better tap into the character if he tore the shirt off completely. It was a wardrobe choice which was thoroughly appreciated by most of the women and many of the men involved in the production, including Damon who was still deeply closeted at the time. The fact that Quinn wasn't a gym rat meant he didn't have the deeply cut abs that were commonplace on campus, but even that made him look more authentic to the period setting. Damon was impressed: even Quinn's body was part of the costume. For the final touch, he dyed his blond hair black and trimmed it short, until Quinn essentially disappeared. He had become Stanley Kowalski.
Audiences were floored by Quinn's performance, in which he tapped into a side of himself he hadn't previously known he had. At the party after opening night, Quinn was back to his usual amiable self, surrounded with well-wishers gushing praise over his performance. With the help of several glasses of red wine, Damon worked up the courage to speak to Quinn and tell him how impressed he was. Quinn could not have been more gracious or more generous with his time, complimenting Damon on the great work he'd done on the sets and costumes and poster. Damon couldn't fathom that Quinn actually knew who he was. Damon felt that his shyness served like personality camouflage, preventing others from noticing he was even in the room with them. Damon mentioned that he was planning to move to Los Angeles after his graduation in the spring. Quinn said he was debating whether it would be better to move to New York or Hollywood to pursue a career when he graduated.
"Well, if you move to L.A., be sure to look me up!", Damon said.
"You can count on it," replied Quinn with a wide grin.
Damon backed away awkwardly, straight into a table with bottles of booze and a streetcar-shaped sheet cake. Catching himself, his right hand landed directly in the thick frosting of the cake. He offered his goop-covered hand in friendship, which Quinn good-naturedly shook, and they both had a good laugh as they went into the kitchen to wash their hands clean.
They saw each other from time to time around campus after that, although they didn't run in the same social circles, mainly because Quinn had social circles and Damon didn't. Only after Damon moved to Los Angeles and knew that he absolutely wouldn't be encountering anyone he already knew did he begin to explore his sexuality anywhere but online. But when he went out to clubs, he still seemed to be wearing that camouflage of anonymity that had cloaked him in college. He was thin and youthful, but not thin and youthful enough to attract the twink aficionados. He joined a gym and began to work out for the first time in his life, putting on a thin layer of muscle, but not enough to draw much attention amid a crowd of West Hollywood beefcake. He got an entry-level position designing pamphlets and web pages for a non-profit, found a studio apartment in WeHo that ate up the bulk of his salary, and spent most of his weekend afternoons browsing through obscure shops around town, looking for cheap eclectic items to furnish his tiny room.
After a year in L.A., Damon was absolutely shocked to get a call from Quinn, saying he was moving to Hollywood to pursue his craft. Damon could not believe that Quinn was following up on a half-drunken pledge he'd made at a party well over a year earlier. It made him admire Quinn even more. Damon asked where Quinn was planning to live, and Quinn replied that he was hoping to get some advice on that from Damon, since he didn't know anyone else who lived in Los Angeles. Damon felt a little less special after hearing that, convinced that if Quinn knew even one other person in town, they would have received this call and Damon would have been forgotten. But screw that, Quinn did call him, so he boldly suggested that Quinn camp out in his apartment while he looked for a place of his own.
"I couldn't impose on you like that, man."
"Not a problem at all," Damon insisted as he looked around the cramped apartment that already made him claustrophobic as its sole resident.
Quinn arrived in town several days later, his possessions narrowed down to a pile of clothes on hangers laid across the back seat of his convertible, his shaggy blond hair tossed by the breeze en route. When Quinn saw the size of Damon's place, he knew he would get in Damon's way and offered to go find himself a motel, but Damon refused to hear it. "When you start getting on my nerves, I'll let you know."
Moving Quinn's belongings into the tiny apartment took a grand total of three minutes, after which they went to grab a bite at Hamburger Mary's on Santa Monica Boulevard. Damon noticed some stiffness in Quinn's body language as he realized how many of the pedestrians and the patrons of the restaurant were pretty clearly gay. Damon had never sensed a whiff of homophobia on Quinn's part at college, but it was a fairly small college in a relatively conservative state. Quinn wasn't so much unnerved as overwhelmed, as if he had cracked open the door of his black-and-white house and was taking his first step into a Technicolor Oz.
"So, is this like the gay part of town, or is all of L.A. like this?", Quinn asked with genuine curiosity as he wolfed down his Barbra-Q Bacon Burger (which he had attempted to order by just pointing to the menu, until the waiter forced him to say it out loud).
"We're pretty close to Gay Central Station here."
"And you like living right in the thick of it?"
Damon's stomach quivered and his pulse went into arrythmia for a second as he mulled what to say. He had yet to come out to his family or to anyone he knew prior to moving to L.A., but if this was who he really was, he had to live it. He thought of saying something earnest or defiant, but he figured a lighter approach would work better. "The thicker the better," he smirked and raised his eyebrows, watching Quinn closely for a reaction.
Quinn took a long swig of beer and fixed his sparkling blue eyes on Damon. He lowered the bottle with a nod. "Yeah, I kinda had you figured for that."
"You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
Quinn laughed. "I just got a theater degree and I want to be an actor. If gays freaked me out, I picked the wrong fuckin' job."
That night, Damon pushed his luck and dragged Quinn to Rage, a gay nightclub. If Damon thought he was wearing camouflage before, entering a gay club with Quinn Brooks by your side was like wearing an invisibility cloak. Quinn definitely got an ego boost from all the guys coming over to ask him to dance (or more), but he bet he set the world record for saying the words "straight" and "girlfriend" in twenty minutes. Meanwhile, Damon nursed a Seven and Seven and contented himself with hovering anonymously near so many horny, sweaty hunks and vicariously wishing all their come-ons were coming his way. Eventually Quinn turned to Damon and shouted "Let's get outta here" over the pounding disco music.
On the sidewalk, it felt twenty degrees cooler. Quinn's eyes were wide, like he'd just narrowly escaped being gored at the Running of the Bulls. "Is that what it's like all the time?", he asked Damon.
"Yeah, that's pretty much a normal night for me."
Damon offered his house guest the futon, but Quinn wouldn't hear of it, using his sleeping bag instead. Quinn went to pains to make sure he wasn't interfering with Damon's routine, although seeing a shirtless Quinn shaving every morning was a disruption Damon didn't complain about. Within a week, Quinn had landed a job as a waiter. Within ten days, he had found an apartment which was bigger and cost less than Damon's. They saw each other occasionally, usually when Damon thought there was a play or movie or band that Quinn might appreciate, but Quinn was usually waiting tables in the evening and had to pass.
The last time Damon had received a call from Quinn was two months ago, inviting Damon and a guest to come to opening night of a play Quinn was doing in North Hollywood. Damon couldn't find a date -- or even a beard -- and ended up giving the spare ticket to a young woman in the standby line. She was pleasant but monosyllabic waiting for the opening curtain, but when Damon mentioned at intermission that he was friends with the guy playing the lead role, the woman became chatty as all get-out, peppering him with questions about Quinn which only ended when the curtain opened for act two. The woman, whose name was Renee, came along with Damon to the after-party and was hanging on Quinn's arm by the end of the night. Two weeks later, Quinn had dumped his girlfriend back home and Renee was spending her nights at Quinn's place. As far as Damon knew, they were still dating, but perhaps they had broken up. Maybe that's why Quinn had called today, reaching out to an old friend -- okay, marginal acquaintance -- for counsel as he nursed a broken heart. But even if Quinn hadn't managed to make other friends in his short time in L.A., surely any stranger he grabbed randomly off the street could offer more wisdom on romantic matters than Damon could.
Damon pulled onto Quinn's shady street and checked the myriad of parking regulation signs, trying to figure out if it was legal for him to park in this neighborhood. Convinced that he could, he ran to Quinn's apartment and knocked on the door. "Co-ome i-in," sang an off-key attempt at a soprano voice from within. Damon swung open the unlocked door and was surprised to discover Quinn pacing in the living room, covered in flop-sweat and wearing a bizarre mixture of clothing. His hair was haphazardly bobby-pinned into something that in no way resembled an actual hairdo. He wore a linen sportscoat with a Chicago Bulls jersey underneath, checkerboard-pattern bicycle shorts and a pair of muddy workboots.
Quinn was flushed with relief at seeing Damon. "Thank god you're here. I gotta be gay! You gotta help me!" He clomped over and hugged Damon, transferring a substantial amount of his sweat onto Damon's gray silk shirt.
"What to you mean you've gotta be gay?", asked Damon.
Quinn picked up a script from his futon and handed it to Damon. "This audition tomorrow. It's for a recurring role in a soap, which'd be huge for me, but the character they want me to play is gay and I don't know how to play it."
"Play it like a normal person."
Quinn shook his head. "You don't understand. I gotta feel like I'm seeing through this guy's eyes. I don't know how to look at another guy from a gay guy's perspective."
"Sure you do," said Damon calmly. "Just look at the guy the same way you look at Renee."
Quinn wasn't being persuaded. He looked distraught as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. "I was thinking if I could just find the right look, the character would come to me, but..."
Damon shook his head as he looked at what Quinn was wearing. "You have met gay people before, right? You know we don't dress like we escaped from a mental ward."
"I know, I know. I was just trying anything. I woulda tried on some of Renee's dresses, but I'm way too big for 'em."
Damon stopped cold and leveled a glare at Quinn. "You also know we don't all wear dresses, right?"
"YES!", Quinn insisted. "What you're seeing is the result of two extra hours of desperation because you couldn't get here right away!"
"Sue me, I work for a living! Why couldn't Renee help you?"
"She's shooting a commercial in Baja. She'll be gone for four days."
"Okay, just calm down. We'll get through this." Damon began to remove the bobby-pins from Quinn's hair and asked, "So, describe this character to me so I can get a sense of what he should wear."
Quinn grabbed the script and scanned the highlighted stage directions. "His name's Alexander and he's the black sheep of the family who was ostrich-ized..."
Damon corrected, "Ostracized."
"Ostracized...when his father discovered he was gay. Actually, he was apparently...ostracized...from the show 'cause he thought he deserved a raise. But now they want to bring his character back."
"And there are no actual gay actors in Hollywood they could hire?"
"My agent says I look a lot like the guy who played him the first time, so he thinks I got a real good chance at it."
"So? There's your answer. Dress like the other guy did."
"I tried that, but that guy used to just wear regular business suits, and putting on my own suits just felt like...like me wearing a suit. Plus, apparently they're writing him a lot more flamboyant now and I don't have a clue how to be flamboyant. That's why I called you."
Damon glanced down at his gray shirt and charcoal pants. "Oh, yeah, you're talking to the male Lady Gaga right here. Go put on some normal clothes and we'll go shopping."
Quinn nodded eagerly and walked into the bathroom to change. He leaned out, asking, "Sir Gaga?"
"What?"
"Wouldn't the male Lady Gaga be Sir Gaga?"
Damon waved a get-a-move-on gesture and tried not to stare too blatantly at Quinn as he stripped down.
* * *
As Quinn drove frantically toward Melrose Boulevard, Damon sat in the passenger seat, scanning through Quinn's script. "This writing is terrible. None of it rings true. This guy Alexander is swishy one minute and butch the next. No wonder you were dressed like you just grabbed random items from the clothes dryer."
"I just need to get a fix on who I think Alexander is. If I can nail the audition, then I'll worry about getting them to write the character better."
Damon pointed to a parking spot in front of a quirky clothing store he liked to browse. Quinn screeched into the spot, pissing off another driver who was getting ready to back into the same space. Quinn shouted at the other driver, "Sorry! Sorry! Acting crisis!" Quinn looked berserk, the wind having buffeted his hair into a crazed mess as the convertible sped here.
Damon led Quinn into the musty smelling shop. They were the only customers, and the older woman managing the register looked surprised to have any visitors at all. Quinn searched frantically through the racks of clothes in his size, trying on one vintage jacket after another, displeased with them all. "Not gay enough."
Damon shook his head, amused but increasingly irritated. He was generally so fond of Quinn but couldn't believe how narrow his views were, as if there were only one kind of gay personality or fashion. He watched as Quinn pulled off his t-shirt, revealing pumped pecs and shallow but distinct ab muscles. Clearly Quinn's carefree attitude toward exercise had changed, and Damon couldn't say he disapproved. Trying not to seem TOO interested, Damon casually asked, "You been working out?"
"Yeah, agent said I looked too doughy. Apparently, if they can't count your ab muscles on two hands these days, nobody's gonna cast you." Quinn pulled a multicolored vest over his bare torso and evaluated the look. He cringed. "Too gay."
Damon felt like he was watching Quinn perform a one-man show of "Goldilocks", where everything was "too gay" or "too straight", but nothing was "just right". (They'd have to go back to cruising Rage later to find three bears.) After Quinn rejected a few of Damon's suggestions, Damon turned in light-hearted frustration to the old woman at the back of the shop. "Do you have a 'gay' section for my friend here? Maybe something in a size Gay?"
Quinn swatted Damon's shoulder. "This probably seems silly to you, but it's my process, okay?"
The woman behind the counter gestured for the men to approach. The old woman's eyes were drawn to Quinn, but Damon had finally quit fretting about his non-entity status in Quinn's presence. That Quinn was now shirtless and more built than ever only made Damon fade further into the background.
"This might sound stupid, but I need something that'll make me feel...gay," Quinn told the old woman.
She smiled wistfully. "When I was a girl, a nice new hat used to make me feel gay."
Oh god, Damon thought, this was a terrible idea. Now we're about to be treated to this woman's history of how word meanings changed throughout the twentieth century. But instead, she reached under the counter and pulled out a wooden jewelry box. She opened it to display a collection of various rings. She studied them, then selected one with a silver band and a single black stone. She handed it to Quinn, saying "I think this will help you get what you desire."
Damon seemed unsure that this simple ring screamed "gay", but Quinn shrugged his recently renovated shoulders and said, "You never know what'll give you the key to your character." He studied it and a flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes. "This isn't one of those mood rings, is it? My dad told me he had one back in the Seventies. The color of the stone changed to show what your mood was."
"Very similar principle," the old woman nodded. "Go ahead, put it on."
Quinn slid it onto his left ring finger. He liked how it felt. The metal weight in an unfamiliar place gave him an immediate sense of otherness, like he wasn't just wearing a piece of jewelry but was wearing part of a different person, a new character. He looked closely at the stone and could detect a slight swirling in the darkness which settled into a deep, dark blue. "Huh, what do you know? It turned blue a little. What does that mean?"
He placed his hand on the counter so the shopkeeper could examine the stone. She peered through squinted eyes, then glanced over her bifocals at Quinn and said, "That means you're a little gay."
Quinn laughed uneasily, which made Damon cackle hysterically. He kidded Quinn, "Don't worry, sweetie, everyone's a little gay." But truthfully, as long as you set aside the fact that Quinn was an actor, Damon had never met anyone as comfortable in his heterosexuality as Quinn, and the straight women in the theater department always appreciated that Quinn was the one exception to the "all the good ones are gay" rule.
Hearing Damon speak, the woman turned to him, almost as if she had just realized he was there. "Are you two a couple?"
Quinn shook his head and waved his hands, saying, "No, no, no, no, no."
Damon felt a little insulted. "Five no's? Could you be a little more emphatic there, buddy?"
Quinn started to apologize when the woman pulled an identical ring from the jewelry box and handed it to Damon. "You try."
Curious but a little scared, Damon slipped the ring onto his left ring finger. If Quinn's ring said he was "a little gay", Damon's ring would probably start shooting out rainbows and sparkles and unicorns while blasting "It's Raining Men". But after letting the mysterious liquid inside the stone swirl and settle, Damon's ring turned only a slightly brighter shade of blue than Quinn's. He held it out for the woman to evaluate. "This can't be right."
"Oh, no, it's right," she assured him. "It's always right."
Damon stared at the blue gem curiously, while Quinn flexed his hand repeatedly, getting a feel for the ring's weight. He told the woman, "It kind of grows on you." She nodded sagely. "I'll take it," Quinn said, pulling out his wallet.
Damon was starting to pull off his ring, but Quinn stopped him. "Keep it, man. It looks good on you."
Damon felt funny about it. "Won't it be kinda weird, you and me wearing matching rings?"
"I'm only wearing mine for the audition. I'm serious, let me buy that for you. It matches your eyes."
Damon was surprised and even a little turned on that Quinn had noticed the color of his eyes. Then again, actors were good at studying other people. Damon shook it off.
Quinn got his change and thanked the woman behind the counter for her help. "Do you need anything else?", she asked.
Pulling his t-shirt back on, Quinn glanced around the store and said, "No, I think I'm good." He stepped outside, with a puzzled Damon at his heels.
"That's it? You buy one ring and you've got the character?"
"No, but I don't think I need more clothes to do it." Quinn leapt energetically into the driver's seat and noticed the flyaway mess that his hair had become. "But I gotta fix this hair. Alexander wouldn't have this haircut. Where's there a good hair stylist?"
Damon had never gone anywhere more stylish than Fantastic Sams, but he had a feeling Quinn needed something a bit more specialized. Damon searched on his iPhone for nearby salons while Quinn drove. Damon found one place on Santa Monica Boulevard that was still open, so he gave Quinn driving directions. Quinn was driving with his left arm propped in his open window, showing off the definition of his biceps and triceps as they emerged from his t-shirt sleeve. Quinn could swear he was noticing a lot more guys staring at him, and Quinn was someone who was used to being stared at. He even waved at a few as he passed. Seemed like what Alexander would do.
When they arrived at the salon, the guy behind the counter with a shaved head, a septum ring and gauged earlobes looked too exhausted to deal with another customer, but when he looked up to see Quinn's smiling, hopeful face, he began to change his mind. Quinn explained that he desperately needed his hair styled for an audition in the morning. He even put his hand atop the counterman's pale slender hand which was splayed on the counter. Wow, thought Damon, he's really laying on the charm. And it worked. Soon Quinn was seated in a chair and getting his hair shampooed. The stylist glanced across the room at Damon, who was slumped in a chair, flipping idly through Frontiers magazine.
"You gonna want a cut too?", asked the stylist.
"No, I'm fine," said Damon.
The stylist disagreed with that assessment of Damon's pedestrian haircut, with an indistinct part and uneven strands of lackluster brown hair straggling over his ears, but he said nothing and turned back to scrubbing Quinn's lush mane. Once it was washed, Quinn moved back to a barber's chair and stared at his reflection, his long hair wet and stringy, falling past his eyes. The stylist asked what Quinn was looking for.
"I need something bold. Something that'll grab your attention, but won't look too radical for a guy in a business suit. What's that one where it's all kinda scrunched up in the middle?"
"A fauxhawk?", replied the stylist.
"Yeah, I want one of those."
Damon looked up from his magazine, surprised. Quinn had been so casual, so lacking in vanity about his appearance in college. Quinn was plenty hot without bothering with fancy technology like, ya know, a comb. Still, Damon could imagine how sexy Quinn would look with a fauxhawk. It was even giving him a chubby. He had a bad habit of being attracted to straight boys, and Quinn had always been his kryptonite. He knew that it was futile and self-sabotaging to allow himself to muse about relationships that could never happen. Yet he found himself lost in Quinn's reflection in the mirror as the stylist set to work.
Quinn was also getting aroused as chunks of his long hair were snipped away. It was like the stylist was sculpting the disorganized wad of yarn glued his head into something sleek and beautiful. Yes, yes, he was feeling the character more and more, getting a better fix on who he should be playing. He could practically see himself becoming the character in his reflection.
With a flourish, the stylist removed the apron from Quinn, who was staring lustily at his newly gelled and peaked hairdo. Quinn spun in his chair to get Damon's opinion, but Damon was already standing, pointing to a photo in a book of sample hairdos and showing it to the stylist. "I want a fade."
The stylist's shoulders sank, as he thought he was done for the day, but Quinn gave him a quick wink and he agreed. As the stylist buzzed the sides over Damon's ears down to bare skin, Damon started to wonder how he'd look with a different hair color, but he knew he'd be pushing his luck to ask the stylist to start a major project like that at this late hour. But as his new style took shape, Damon began to grin. It wasn't a radical change, but it also wasn't the same old boring haircut that had stared back at him since high school. He glanced behind him, where Quinn seemed to be studying an issue of Playgirl. Damon blinked his eyes, thinking there must be hair in them. "What you reading there, Q?"
"Interesting article," Quinn said deadpan. Damon figured Quinn must be doing research into what he thought a gay guy would read.
When the two men stepped back into the cool evening air, they both felt pounds heavier as their scalps felt the breeze. Quinn looked down at his shorter friend and smiled. "Da-amn, boy, you do look cute."
Damon looked at Quinn skeptically, thinking back to Quinn's gradual metamorphosis into Stanley Kowalski back in college. Maybe this was just his process. "Just so I'm clear, you're just trying to get into character, right?"
Quinn wrapped a strong arm around Damon's slender shoulders. "Aw, my little Damie, never could take a compliment." Quinn leaned down o kiss Damon lightly on the forehead. If this was Quinn's process, he was certainly disappearing into the role already.
Damon checked his phone for the time. "Maybe we should head back to your place and I can help you memorize your script."
"Fuck the lines," said Quinn, with a ferocity strange for someone who could usually beat Jack Johnson in a mellow-off. Quinn spotted the Rage nightclub up the street and started to drag Damon in that direction. "Let's go dancing!"
"I thought you hated Rage."
"I did. But I don't think Alexander does."
Inside the packed club, Quinn was much chattier than he had been on his first night in town. In fact, he seemed downright comfortable, chatting and laughing with everyone who approached him. Damon hovered close enough to hear Quinn introducing himself to people as Alexander. Quinn pulled Damon over and started introducing him as "my boy Damon". Damon had done some role-playing games online and always felt too self-conscious about it, but he was getting off on playing this role. Even pretending to be Quinn's -- or Alexander's -- boy was a thrill, and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
Quinn had already shed his t-shirt and was flexing in time with the music. Damon unbuttoned his silk shirt down to the base of his sternum. Any further exposure of his pale pasty skin would risk causing blindness to anyone who looked at it, and he'd never found his clumps of unsightly body hair to be aesthetically pleasing. Basically, Damon believed that the more of his body someone saw, the less likely they were to desire him. Ideally, to avoid turning off potential lovers, he would need to walk the streets in an Iron Man uniform.
Quinn was getting sucked further away into the swirl of bodies, but Damon noticed that Quinn was constantly looking back to check on him. Eventually, Quinn squeezed his way back and they spent the remainder of the night dancing as a couple. When the pace slowed slightly, Quinn wrapped his arms around Damon's butt and hoisted him until Damon was looking down at Quinn. Quinn planted his lips on Damon's and kissed him hard. Damon closed his eyes, ecstatic, letting himself believe for a moment that what he was feeling from Quinn was real and not research.
Fueled by Red Bulls and vodka, Quinn and Damon stayed until closing time. Damon was sure he would have a hangover at work tomorrow, but at the moment he was carefree and full of energy, literally skipping along the boulevard. Quinn strolled behind him, swinging his meaty arms loosely. "Okay, now we'll go home and do lines."
Damon looked hopefully. "Cocaine?"
Quinn rubbed his knuckles through Damon's new hairdo. "No, you knucklehead. Lines in the script." Damon giggled as they climbed into the convertible and headed back to Quinn's place. As Damon picked up the script from the floor of the car, he noticed the glow of his ring. The color had lightened since he first put it on. It now sparkled like a sapphire. He glanced over at Quinn, but couldn't see his ring, as Quinn was hanging his left forearm down along the outside of the car and pounding on the door in time with the music cranked on the car stereo.
When they got back to the apartment, Quinn grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the refrigerator and told Damon to make himself comfortable on the futon in the living room. Damon took a seat, sipped his beer and opened the script to the proper page, only to gasp as Damon returned to the living room wearing nothing but a pair of amply stuffed black briefs.
"Aw, Damie, I told you to get comfortable. You're my expert on all this. I need you to tell me what I should be doing."
Damon quickly flipped through the script. "Isn't it just a dialogue scene? I didn't see any sex scenes in the script."
Quinn grabbed the script and flung it across the room. It slammed into the wall, snapping the fasteners and sending the pages fluttering to the floor. "Fuck the script. I need to know what it feels like to be inside you." Quinn pulled down his briefs and his rigid cock began to rise and grow. He worked the scrap of black cloth down both of his bulging thighs, then down the shins. He reached one big toe up to pull the briefs the rest of the way off. Then, holding the shorts between his toes, he tossed them directly into Damon's face.
Damon closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, amazed to have this chance to inhale Quinn's musky scent. He pulled the briefs above his eyes and left them resting atop his new haircut. He giggled playfully and stared lustily at the golden-haired tower of muscle looming over him, standing with legs spread and a nine-inch cock pointing straight up, slapping flat against his abs and seemingly as wide as Damon's wrist. Jesus, Damon thought, he's staring at me. Right at my pathetic little body. And he's got a hard-on that could shatter glass.
Fuck, thought Damon, this guy is a good actor.
Damon tore open his gray shirt, losing a few buttons in the process. He unbuckled his pants but struggled to get them down before Quinn leapt upon him. Quinn shredded Damon's trousers and ripped off his boxers to discover Damon's slim, six-incher, fully erect. Quinn grunted and smiled, then eased his own cock gently into Quinn's asshole. "How's that?"
Damon whimpered, never having had something that large inside him before.
Quinn brushed Damon's cheek and kissed him. "You tell me if I'm hurting you, Damie. I just want to make you happy." Quinn took it slowly, gradually inserting more and more of his engorged cock into Damon.
Damon was getting short of breath. He glanced down and saw Quinn's massive left hand wrapped around Damon's cock, stroking it in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. Damon noticed the glint of Quinn's ring on the hand. The jewel was now sapphire blue, just like Damon's had been in the car. Curious, he glanced at his own ring and it had now lightened to a dazzling cyan. He felt all his inhibitions slipping away and surrendered to the power of Quinn. Or Alexander. Or whoever. Who cares? Damon screamed out, "Just fuckin' fuck me!"
* * *
Quinn slept deeply through the night, but his dreams were vivid. Amazingly, he had already reached a state that usually only came after weeks of rehearsal: he was dreaming in character. He knew he was ready to play a part when he had so deeply inhabited them that he no longer dreamt as himself, but as Stanley Kowalski, or George in "Virginia Woolf", or Estragon in "Waiting for Godot". (Man, if you think your dreams are hard to follow, try having some "Godot" dreams.) Somehow, with this Alexander character, he had gone from panic to serenity in a single night. He felt the power of Alexander's suddenly unleashed sexuality, the newfound sense of freedom that gave him, the strength he sought to exert over others, yet the tenderness he could exhibit to those he loved, like his boy Damie.
That last part caused a slight glitch in the dream, as Quinn suddenly realized he was in a dream and tried to remember whether Damie was a character in the script or... No, Damie was his friend from college. Little Damon. How had he never noticed what a cutie Damie was all these years? Damie was always so shy. He must have been waiting for years for Alexander to make the first move.
Fuck, no, that's not right. Alexander is the character. I'm Quinn. That's right, right? It was all intermingled, and suffused with a sense of well-being that seemed to have calmed his spirit. Yeah, now he remembered. He was in a panic all day about...something or other...and his little Damie came and made it all better. And they fucked until they collapsed.
A familiar xylophone melody began to repeat and repeat in Quinn's brain, gradually rousing him from his slumber. He snuggled against the bare skin of Damon's back as they spooned on the futon. Damon remained blissfully asleep in Quinn's arms while the fog lifted from Quinn's brain. That music...it was the alarm on Damon's iPhone. What time was it? Quinn squinted until he finally spotted something with a clock: his microwave. 7:45. Fuck! The audition! When was the audition again?
Quinn gently slid his arm out from underneath Damon, stood up and switched off the alarm. Morning wood slapping against his thigh, he wandered the living room naked in search of the title page of the script on which he had scribbled the time and place of his audition. Finally locating it, he discovered that he had a couple of hours of breathing room, although he still needed to memorize the lines. He wasn't worried though, because he already had the character.
Quinn leaned down and kissed Damon on the cheek. "Morning, sexy. Time to get up."
Damon grumpily opened his eyes and was rewarded with a view of Quinn's hard cock. He giggled sleepily and said in a lilting voice, "Mmm, is that for me?"
"Not right now. Gotta get ready for my audition."
"Can I help you?"
"Not right now. I need to take a shower."
Damon crawled across the futon with a smile, waggling his bouncy ass. "Can I help you?"
Quinn felt tempted, but knew he had to get in and out fast so he could study his lines. He kissed Damon's forehead, then walked to the bathroom. Damon got hard just watching Quinn's broad back and dimpled butt cheeks as he left the room. That vision carried him to a speedy orgasm, spurting across the thatches of hair on his meagerly developed torso. He fell back into a giddy slumber, rubbing his fingers lazily through his own cum.
Damon woke again when a shadow fell over his face. He looked up to see Quinn fully dressed in a gray business suit, the sunlight hitting the peaks of his freshly gelled fauxhawk. Quinn's cock rubbed softly against the material of his pants, as he'd decided that Alexander would go commando. Better to demonstrate his dominance over his rivals. Quinn nervously fiddled with a ring on his left hand, its jewel an entrancing bright shade of blue. "Gotta go, Damie. See you when I get back?"
Smiling coyly, Damon sat up, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his hairy legs. "I'll be here. Kiss for luck?"
Quinn leaned down and planted his succulent lips on Damon's. They both closed their eyes to fully enjoy the sensation. Neither noticed the blue glow of their rings brightening further.
After Quinn left for his audition, Damon made his way to the bathroom where he took a long hot shower. The gushing water kept him from hearing his phone ringing, as his office called to find out why he wasn't at work yet.
Damon stepped from the shower and wiped the fog from the mirror. He had to admit, he really did look cute with his new haircut, but he grimaced the further he looked down. Those clumps of hair on his chest and the wet, clingy hair on his legs did not look cute at all. He grabbed Quinn's can of Barbasol and lathered up his chest and legs. It took him two of Quinn's razorblades to shave his chest and legs clean and, after he saw how that looked, another blade plus the rest of the Barbasol to take care of his pubes.
As he lay his sleek new body back down upon the futon, Damie wondered how Q's audition was going.
* * *
Quinn's confidence that he would be cast in the soap opera peaked in the millisecond before he opened the door to the casting office.
Once inside, he discovered several other strapping young men much like himself. VERY much like himself. Clearly the call had gone out for any actor who looked sufficiently similar to the one who had originated the role of Alexander, and the results of that quest were seated in this room. Blond, handsome, tall but not too tall. Their minor physical differences were outweighed by their striking similarities. Quinn had gotten used to being the go-to lead actor back in college, but he was now facing the reality of being a tiny fish trying to navigate the biggest sea in the acting world. Quinn checked in at the front desk and took his seat among the other prospective Alexanders, who were checking him out, both to evaluate him as their acting competition and, for many of them, just to check him out.
At least his fears about playing a gay character had been erased by last night's events. As soon he had found that ring in the shop where Damon took him, something clicked in his mind. Never before had a single item of wardrobe given him such a strong sense of a character. He had been immersed in characters before, but last night, he felt positively possessed, seeing the world through Alexander's eyes, doing things he had never done before -- things he would never have considered doing before. But as the night went on, he realized he wasn't simply acting out of curiosity as research for a role; he was responding to irresistible physical urges...and he had to admit to himself that it felt tremendous.
He only hoped that Damon didn't feel used and exploited, although from Quinn's semi-drunken memories of the night, it seemed like Damon had a gay old time. He had never seen Damon so loose, so happy, so free.
* * *
Back at Quinn's apartment, Damon was restless. He had checked his voicemail and discovered several messages from his workplace, asking where he was. He finally called back, explaining that he had misread some parking signs and his car had been towed. He promised to get to work as soon as possible, but he had no such intention. He wanted to be waiting here when Quinn returned triumphantly from his audition, so he could leap into Quinn's arms, smother him in kisses...and then fuck, fuck, fuck the night away.
Although Damon had known he was gay since before he even knew it was a thing to be, he'd never felt as obsessed with sex as he did this morning. Sure, he had thought about the subject plenty, more in abstract terms than in genuine practice, but his mind had never before been whipped into such an orgy of nonstop salacious thoughts. It still seemed like some impossible dream that he had actually had sex with Quinn Brooks...and multiple times at that. But uncharacteristically, Damon wasn't dwelling on why Quinn suddenly found him attractive (or at least fuckworthy) and wasn't making mental wagers about how soon Quinn would inevitably turn his attentions elsewhere and leave Damon in misery. All that percolated through Damon's mind this bright morning was looking his best for his man ("his MAN"!!!) when he got back home.
The drab clothes Damon had worn last night were no longer an option, as Quinn had shredded Damon's slacks and underwear when he tore them off Damon's body. Damon's gray shirt was slightly salvageable, since it had only lost a few buttons. Damon slipped it on, rolling up the sleeves and knotting the tails of the shirt in the front to expose his smooth, hairless tummy. Not terrible, Damon thought, but pretty blah. Surely he could find something with more pizzazz.
He peeked through Quinn's drawers for some shorts, but anything big enough to accomodate Quinn was ridiculously huge on Damon's slim firame. None of Quinn's clothes hanging in his closet were appropriate either, but Damon did notice that Quinn's girlfriend Renee had left a few changes of clothes hanging there as well. Not only was her body closer to Quinn's size, but he admired her fashion sense. He felt a forbidden thrill as he slipped a spangly blue-and-white-striped top off its hanger, held it in front of himself and studied his reflection in the mirror. He pulled his gray button down over his head and slipped on Renee's top, its neck so wide that it exposed the slope of Damon's shoulder. A smile slowly grew on his lips. Yesterday, he would have felt embarrassed to wear anything so shiny or so feminine, but today it gave him a kick.
He squeezed his way into a pair of her black leggings and was glad that the bottom of the shirt concealed the growing boner trapped within them. He would have to wash the leggings before Renee returned to town, so she wouldn't wonder why there was a stain of dried pre-cum in them. At least his own shoes still fit, although they were a ludicrous contrast to the outfit above them. Clearly he would need to run out and buy some new clothes if he was going to look good for Quinn, and this mismatched outfit would allow him to go into public. With his paltry savings, he couldn't suddenly become an au courant fashionista...but, hey, he thought with a giggle, that's why God invented credit cards!
Damon stepped out of the apartment, realizing too late that the door was locking behind him. A day ago, Damon would have been frantic about getting locked out and mortified to be seen in public the way he was currently dressed. But instead, he shrugged it off and sashayed (there was really no better word for it) his little kiester down the sidewalk to where he thought he had parked his beat-up piece-of-shit Mazda. He looked up and down the street with a sinking feeling. Well, what do you know? That lie about his car having been towed because he didn't read the parking signs? It wasn't a lie after all. But again, instead of freaking out, Damon calmly pulled out his iPhone.
* * *
Quinn leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed as he went over Alexander's lines in his head for the millionth time in twenty minutes. He felt a vibration in his pants. He didn't want to be disturbed while he was so immersed in character. Still, what if it was important? What if it was a message from his agent? Or from Damon? He had to look.
He slid the phone from his pocket and noticed that it was a text from Renee. He pushed the phone back in his pocket without reading the message. He couldn't lose his focus now. Besides, he had no clue what to tell her about last night. He probably shouldn't say anything. What if it was just a one-night fling, a dalliance fueled by an actor's need for new experiences to inform his performance? He still loved Renee, didn't he? Well, he liked her at least. After all, she was pretty and smart and understanding and...
"Quinn Brooks?"
Huh? What? Quinn heard someone calling his name.
"Quinn Brooks?" The woman said it again, more impatiently.
Quinn shook off his stupor and raised his hand. "Present!", he called, as if the woman were taking roll call. She gestured for him to proceed to the inner office. Quinn offered a hasty "Good luck" to his fellow actors in the waiting room and stepped inside. Three people seated behind a table stared at Quinn, impressed on first sight by his close resemblance to his predecessor in the role. They each informed Quinn who they were, but Quinn's mind was so scattered that all he heard was "words words name name words". Dammit, why had he looked at that text message? He was totally losing his focus. He brushed his left hand nervously through his fauxhawk, disheveling his carefully groomed look. The stone in his ring was darkening back toward a deep blue, verging on black.
He gazed across the room at the three people evaluating him, as well as the bored guy manning a video camera behind them. Quinn found himself making friendly chit-chat. Dammit, that wasn't his plan! All morning, he had been in the zone. He had planned that, from the moment he walked into the audition room, he was going to take command of the situation and BE sly, conniving Alexander. But here he was, in front of the people who were going to decide his fate, and he heard his mouth on autopilot, lapsing back into friendly old Quinn, blathering about traffic and asking politely about getting his parking validated. Focus, man, focus!
From somewhere, a voice asked Quinn to begin. He took a big breath and opened his mouth, but the words he had down stone cold just minutes ago were eluding him. It was the classic actor's nightmare of going dry. At least he wasn't naked too, although that would have given them something to focus on besides the lack of words coming from his mouth. Cringing, he put a shaky hand into the breast pocket of his suit coat and pulled out his script pages, hoping they would kick him back into gear. But he discovered they were in the wrong order and facing different directions. As he searched desperately for the first page, he could sense interest plummeting across the room. At last, he found the first line, which seemed dimly familiar. He cleared his throat and realized how parched he was. His tongue was practically cemented to the roof of his mouth. He grabbed a bottle of water that had been placed nearby for him. The cap was surprisingly tight and, when he finally loosened it, he was squeezing the plastic bottle so tight that a gusher of water shot out, dousing the crotch of his pants. Quinn stared at the dark wet blotch and wondered, where is cyanide when you need it?
Quinn drained half of what remained in the bottle, then set it aside, glanced at the pages and began to recite his lines. Once he got rolling, the words were mostly there, so he only needed to consult the pages twice more for cues, but the character's voice, the one he had such a grip on all morning, was gone. It wasn't devious Alexander speaking his mind, it was just charming Quinn Brady lifelessly reciting some shit he had memorized. He may as well have been in a third-grade Earth Day pageant dressed as an oak tree for all the emotion he was investing in his performance. Once he finished, he was out the door in shame somewhere between when the casting director said "thank" and when she said "you".
Quinn stormed through the outer office and into the parking lot, royally pissed at himself. He yanked off his necktie, wadded it up and hurled it into the backseat of his convertible. A voice in his head asked, "Is that really the best you can do?" Quinn told himself "no" as he struggled out of his coat. "I thought you were serious about this," said the voice. I am, Quinn insisted to himself. I love acting. "Well, then, show it, goddamn it!", urged the voice. I can't, I blew my shot, it's over, Quinn lamented as he stripped off his dress shirt. But the voice was screaming at him now, "Nothing is ever over unless you let it be over. You don't give up on what you need, you fight for it! Do you seriously think that I would just walk away?"
Finally, Quinn realized the pep talk wasn't really from himself. It was the voice of Alexander, roaring back to life and asserting itself. The energy and intensity which had fueled Quinn last night were back, maybe even stronger than before. He marched back toward the casting office, still shirtless and with something to prove, flinging open the front door, crossing the lobby and barging into the inner room. An assistant chased after him, yelling that he couldn't go in there, but Alexander would not be stopped. Quinn pushed aside the startled blond guy who was in the middle of his audition and ignored the shouts from the folks behind the desk that this was unacceptable.
"No, what's unacceptable is what I did before," said Quinn with fury. "I wasn't showing you who I truly was, what I had the potential to be. I had to get out of here and clear my head before I could see myself for who I am and realize I had unfinished business back here. I deserve to be here. Nothing is ever over unless you let it be over. You don't give up on what you need, you fight for it! Do you seriously think I would just walk away?"
The words ran out. He had nothing more to say. His broad chest rose and fell with each deep breath, Quinn stared down the people behind the table, who looked like they had just witnessed a car bomb exploding. The bored camera guy was now alert and zooming in for a close-up of Quinn's face. The auditioner whom Quinn had interrupted felt compelled to applaud Quinn softly, realizing he could never have delivered a performance like that. Only as his adrenaline subsided did Quinn realize that everything he had said was actually from Alexander's lines in the script. But not only did they ring true for Alexander, they said what Quinn had needed to say.
The folks behind the table consulted with each other in murmurs before the soap opera's director, a distinguished man with graying hair, a British accent and an approving smile, leaned forward and told Quinn, "Well, this is the part of the audition where we would usually ask you to take off your shirt, but you seem to have jumped the gun on that, dear boy."
Quinn's piercing blue eyes gazed right back at the man. He radiated immense confidence, knowing that he had nailed it. He brushed his left hand slowly down his sweat-soaked chest and abs, unaware that the gemstone on his new ring had shifted back from a deep onyx to a blue lapis lazuli.
* * *
At first, the stylist did not recognize the waifish man getting out of the cab in front of the salon in the striped shirt, leggings and black Oxford shoes. But the stylist tended to have a good memory for his own work and, once the customer entered, he realized from the conservative brown fade that this was the meek pal of the gorgeous blond who had entered with such urgency the night before. The man walked gracefully to the counter and grinned conspiratorially at the stylist. "Remember me?"
"Yeah, sure," said the stylist. "You were in here with that other dude last night."
Damon liked being remembered for once, even if only as an afterthought to "that other dude". Actually, being remembered as having been "WITH that other dude" gave Damon quite a thrill. "I want to go further. Try something really radical." Damon described the look he was thinking of, then asked, "Do you do piercings here too?"
Damon was surprised how long the process took to achieve what he wanted, but he knew it would be worth it, if only to see Quinn's reaction. As he waited for the process to complete, he decided he might as well get a mani/pedi while he was waiting. The cute boy tending to Damon's nails suggested a facial to clean out Damon's pores, so that was added to the credit card too.
When Damon finally stepped outside, it was after noon. He checked his phone but hadn't received a call or text from Quinn. He hoped that was a good sign, but didn't want to jinx it by calling Q and asking. Catching his reflection in the salon window, Damon could hardly believe he was looking at himself, but these hand-me-down rags from Renee were not cutting it. He knew just where to go, so he phoned for another cab.
The white-haired old woman was behind the counter at his favorite funky clothes shop again. In fact, he never remembered seeing anyone else working the register in all the times he'd shopped here. Well, browsed. He loved looking at the clothing, and had enjoyed trying on some of the milder outfits in the dressing room, but he never dreamt of wearing any of it out of here. Today, though, he wanted to buy everything he tried on, no matter how outlandish. All that held him back was a nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him that his credit card did have a limit.
He brought a pile of items to the counter. As he pulled out his wallet, the woman behind the register noticed a familiar ring on his left hand, silver with a shiny turquoise stone. She studied Damon's face and was amazed. She knew the effects her jewelry could have, but had never seen such a radical change in a customer in such a short time. "Oh, it's you! I take it you are pleased with the ring."
Damon held up the back of his hand and looked at the stone, mesmerized by its color. "I absolutely love it."
"And your friend?"
"Oh, yeah, it was exactly what he needed!"
The woman was relieved. Although she had known immediately that the man before her was gay, albeit very introverted, she was a bit worried when the friend's ring had turned only slightly blue. She bought all of her jewelry from an old hippie living in an abandoned filling station near Ojai who had hyped his products by saying they had magical powers which would help the wearer become "self-actualized" and "live their life to its greatest potential". He ascribed different miraculous abilities to his various rings and necklaces and bracelets. The shopkeeper had been in the business long enough to have lived through the fads of crystals and pyramid-power, to have gone to EST seminars and had herself tested with an e-meter, so she figured this guy was just trafficking in another new line of bullshit, but she liked his designs, so she bought a few samples.
The rings she had sold to the men last night were part of what he called his XY line. The jewelry maker claimed that they could detect the wearer's position on the sexuality spectrum. If the stone was pitch black, the wearer was uncontrovertibly heterosexual. The bluer the stone became, the more the wearer embraced their homosexuality. The storekeeper initially assumed the jeweler was just trying to unload crates of unsold mood rings from the Seventies with a modern angle that might make them appealing to gay couples getting married. (He also offered an XX line for lesbians, which accounted for the hot pink stone on the saleswoman's ring finger.) But the jewelry maker assured her that what made the rings mystical was their power to nudge the wearer along that sliding scale until they reached the point where they felt most comfortable in their own skin. At first, that seemed like an extravagant claim, but the saleslady had seen the jeweler's promises borne out hundreds of times now and, from the evidence before her, Damon had become far more comfortable with his gayness since last night.
After she finished ringing up Damon's items on the antique cash register, the saleslady asked if Damon needed anything else. "Or perhaps a gift for you friend?"
Damon would love to surprise Q with a gift, but he hesitated, informing the saleslady, "I don't want to buy him any clothes, because they might be too small for him. If he gets this new job today, they're probably going to want him to pack on a lot more muscle."
She heard the magic word and brought out her jewelry box, selecting a pair of wide bracelets made from leather and silver. They had a very rough-hewn macho look, like something a gladiator or Thor would wear, and Damon thought Quinn would look fierce in them. "I'll take them!", he shouted without even asking the price.
The saleslady rang it up and noticed that Damon was still studying the jewelry box in search of something else. "I don't suppose you sell...another kind of ring."
"What kind of ring?"
Damon blushed, his freshly-cleansed pale skin serving as a flesh-and-blood mood ring, turning practically scarlet. Although no one else was in the store, Damon still felt embarrassed to ask, so he whispered his request in the saleslady's ear. She nodded and gestured for him to follow her into the back of the shop.
* * *
Quinn was pumped!
After Quinn's cloudburst of an audition, the director asked him to remain in the area for a while until they finished seeing the other actors. So, for a couple of hours, Quinn wandered the parking lot, picked up a protein shake from the Jamba Juice at the mall across the street, then returned to his car to wait until the director needed him again. God, he loved it here. Back home, the leaves would be falling soon and the air would be turning crisp already, while he could sit in his convertible with the seat leaned back and his shirt off, working on his tan.
An assistant finally came out to tell Quinn they were ready for him. When he started to put his shirt back on, the assistant told him, "That won't be necessary." Quinn returned to the audition room, expecting to do a full audition, since he'd only said about ten sentences during his earlier tirade, but the director informed him they had heard enough. Quinn felt dejected, like he was being held after school to get a scolding on the way real professionals behave. Instead, the director informed Quinn that he had the role. Inside his head, Quinn felt like leaping ten feet high, but he retained his reserved Alexander-ish demeanor and simply stated, "You won't be sorry."
Once he was on the studio lot, Quinn would have a personal trainer in the show's private fitness center, but since Quinn's first episode wouldn't shoot for a couple of weeks, they wanted him to hit the gym heavily in the meantime. His body was well on its way to perfection, but for maximum tittilation value, the soap writers set a high proportion of the show's scenes in bedrooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, saunas, massage parlors, laundry rooms -- anyplace that the male actors could conceivably display a lot of skin. For a story arc about an academic cheating scandal, the writers had even bandied about the notion of a clothing-optional library. Wags in the press had long ago dubbed the show "Topless Hospital" and "The Hung and the Shirtless".
"As a gay character," the director said to Quinn, "it would seem unlikely that your physique would be less spectacular than the straight characters, wouldn't you say? You do feel comfortable playing a gay character, don't you?"
"Absolutely," said Quinn as his ring became a touch more brilliant.
Quinn wanted to share the good news with Damon immediately, but he didn't want to do it over the phone. He wanted to see Damon's face. He leapt into the convertible without even opening the door and sped back to his apartment. Climbing out, he slipped on a ribbed purple tank top from his gym bag, slung his dress shirt, suit coat and tie over his arm and walked toward his front door.
A veritable bunker of shopping bags was piled by his front door, and extending from behind them were two alluringly slim, smooth legs, feet in blue flip-flops with blue painted toenails. Had Renee already returned from her commercial shoot in Baja? Shit, she did send him that damn text message this morning and he never even looked at it. But why was she sitting outside, when she had Quinn's spare key? "I'm sorry, baby. You been waiting long?", said Quinn as he rounded the corner.
"I don't mind," said the soft-voiced man seated on Quinn's welcome mat. Quinn leapt back, startled by the stranger, then became even more startled when he realized this was no a stranger. It was Damon, but he was virtually unrecognizable from the sexual dynamo he'd left on his futon this morning, let alone the shy and awkward man he had he known since college.
"I didn't see your car out front," said Quinn, as if that was the reason for the look of shock on his face.
"Fascist cops towed it away. I must have parked where I shouldn't have. Far as I'm concerned, they can keep it. I can't be seen in a monstrosity like that." Damon struggled to his feet and pointed to some of the shopping bags surrounding him. "Can you help me with these, babe?" Quinn grabbed two bags and unlocked the door. Damon preceded him into the living room, and Quinn was hypnotized by the waggle of Damon's ass in white short-shorts that ran out of fabric before his glutes ran out of curves. A baby-blue fishnet tank top covered Damon's now hairless torso, and silver studs now adorned both of his earlobes. His fingernails were coated with the same navy-blue nail polish as his toenails, and his face had a refreshed appearance that made him appear even more boyish than usual.
But it was Damon's hair that commanded the most attention. Although it had been buzzed to the scalp on the sides last night, the top had been left fairly thick and messy. Now, the hair on top was dyed a rich shade of blue that matched his eyes and stood in dozens of gelled spikes. Damon couldn't help admiring himself in the reflection on the microwave door. "Maybe I read too much anime as a kid and had too many crushes on cartoon Asian boys with blue hair, but I fuckin' love it. Don't you fuckin' love it?"
He could never have imagined it, but Quinn had to admit that it did work with the rest of Damon's new look. "I do, but it's so...different."
"Different is what I want. I've had 23 years to be the same." Damon sat his little butt on the edge of the futon and leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees as he looked up expectantly at Quinn. "So...how did the audition go?"
Quinn wanted to draw out the suspense, but he was so eager to share the news, he was about to burst. He spoke softly with as blank an expression as he could manage. "I got it."
Damon's high-pitched squeal triggered a frenzy of barking from the dogs next door. Just as he had envisioned, Damon leapt into the air, wrapping his slender arms around Quinn's neck and his bare legs around Quinn's waist. Quinn gave Damon a soulful French kiss and inhaled deeply. "What have you been drinking? You taste like Kool-Aid", he asked when he pulled his mouth away from Damon's.
"Oh, I'm wearing fruit-punch-flavored lipstick," Damon explained. "Just a little. Also a little eyeliner. And some mascara. You like?"
"As the actor in this relationship, I thought I'd be the one wearing the makeup." He smiled, then noticed Damon's expression suddenly turning serious. "What's the matter?"
Damon seemed ready to sob. "You just called this a relationship." He grinned as a tear formed in the corner of his eye and, for the first time in his life, Damon had to worry about runny mascara. Quinn hugged Damon's thin ribcage tightly, fearing he could snap the poor little guy if he squeezed any harder.
"Oh, I got you a gift," Damon declared, motioning for Quinn to lower him to the floor. "To congratulate you for getting the part."
"But you didn't know I'd gotten the part."
"Positive thinking!", Damon shouted as he rummaged through his shopping bags. Quinn thought Damon was nearly broke, but he had clearly gone on a massive shopping spree. Damon flung bright pastel shirts and gold lame vests and sequined socks onto the floor. Quinn even thought he spotted Renee's striped shirt and black leggings among the pile, but he was sure he was mistaken. Finally, Damon found what he was looking for and handed the two leather and silver cuffs to Quinn.
"For my macho macho man," Damon said.
Quinn looked at them, impressed with the craftsmanship but unsure if they were exactly him. "Thank you so much, Damie, but you really shouldn't have."
"I should have and I did. Try them on!"
Quinn unbuckled them and strapped them onto each wrist. Just like when he tried on the ring last night, he felt a comforting warmth in his body as soon as the cuffs were in place. Maybe they weren't Quinn's type of accessory, but he could certainly see Alexander wearing them. They felt like battle armor, like something Alexander the Great might have worn leading his troops. Maybe Alexander in the soap sees himself as a modern-day Alexander the Great, Quinn thought. Not that Quinn knew much about Alexander the Great, aside from that stupid movie his girlfriend at the time made him watch where Colin Farrell and Jared Leto had the hots for each other. "Mmmm, Colin and Jared," thought Quinn. "Maybe that movie was better than I gave it credit for."
A slight buzz and heaviness spread through his muscles, as if he had just finished a heavy workout -- which reminded him...
"I gotta go work out. They said I'm gonna have a lot of shirtless scenes, so the show wants me to get more ripped."
Damon grinned. "My heavens, I am gonna watch this show on a constant loop."
"You wanna come work out with me? Then afterwards, we can have a celebratory dinner."
Damon, for whom working out had always been a slog, clapped excitedly, then searched his bags for his new workout clothes.
When they arrived at the gym, for once it was Damon drawing the curious eyes. Not that Quinn was completely ignored, but here he was but one of hundreds of muscleheads. As far as Quinn could tell, Damon was the only blue-haired pixie in a Madonna "True Blue" t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, old-fashioned scrotum-length running shorts and electric-blue Chuck Taylors.
As Quinn headed toward the free weights, Damon hung back by the treadmills.
"Aren't you coming over to lift with me?", Quinn asked.
"I'm gonna work on my calves. You go play with the lummoxes. But I'll have my eye on you, Q, so don't get too friendly with any of them."
"Promise," Quinn said, rushing back for a kiss and another dose of Damon's fruity lipstick, which he would continue to taste throughout his workout. Quinn was practically delirious. He was prone to falling into relationships quickly, with his swift courtship of Renee being the most recent example, but he'd never felt quite so smitten with anyone as he was with Damon. Then again, it's not like they rushed into this. They had been acquainted for several years already, but until yesterday Quinn hadn't even acknowledged certain tendencies in himself. He always was a little slow to catch on.
Quinn worked his way in with the muscle beasts whose inflated bodies made him feel puny. He never wanted to look that absurd, and would draw the line if the show suggested that he take steroids or any other drugs. He wanted any muscle growth to be natural -- unaware that, as soon as he began to lift wearing the new cuffs that Damon had given him, they would start to work their own mysterious magic on his muscle tone.
It started slowly, as he noticed that the usual weights he could curl and bench felt surprisingly easy today. He attributed that to his great mood and the adrenaline rush of landing the part on the soap. But when he moved up to the next heaviest weight, that too was a breeze. He had to go up a full fifty pounds before he started feeling any strain at all. With each set of curls, his arms were swelling massively, his biceps veins snaking in sharp relief on top of them. By the end of his workout, he was handling as much weight as the WWE wannabes surrounding him, and his bulging muscles were testing the limits of the seams on his tank top.
Sprinting on the treadmill, Damon watched with fascination, turned on by the sight of Quinn's expanding lats within his purple tank. When the two men hit the showers together, Damon didn't even attempt to hide the erection he was getting. Quinn had never been one to check out other guys' dicks in the locker room, but he figured Damon was fair game now. He was amazed to see that Damon's cock was several inches longer than it had been last night -- bigger than Quinn's now! -- and was that...a cock ring? Yup, the silver beauty that Damon had been afraid to ask for out loud was now working its own form of magic on Damon.
Back in the locker room, Quinn attempted to pull on his plaid flannel shirt, but it was tight on his arms in a way it never had been before. When he tried to pull the buttons toward the buttonholes, he heard loud ripping sounds as the sleeves separated at the shoulder and his lats tore a slit straight down the back. He was maintaining an incredible post-workout pump, with a deep crevice between his pecs and sharper definition in his abs. His briefs were a tighter squeeze than usual. He had to lie down on a bench and pull like hell to get his pants over his quads, and there was no way his zipper was going all the way to the top. His sneakers were the only things that fit remotely well. He lay on the bench, defeated and barely clothed.
"I'd say our Q needs to go shopping again," said Damon, hovering over him, amused.
Quinn looked up and witnessed the latest incarnation of Damon. He had washed out the gel, so his blue hair now hung across his forehead in choppy bangs that grazed his eyebrows. He wore a silver button-down shirt with the short sleeves rolled up to display his modest biceps, a vintage hand-painted necktie, tight tweed slacks turned up at the cuffs, baby-blue socks and black-and-white wingtips. Quinn suddenly felt like a schlub. "I'll only go shopping if you pick out what I buy."
Quinn entered Damon's favorite shop wearing sweatpants and no shirt. The same saleslady was at her usual post, and she noticed the cuffs on Quinn's wrists and the dramatic renovations they had already performed on his body. Quinn wasn't nearly as fussy as he had been last night. With the ring and now the leather cuffs, he felt he'd truly found his center as Alexander...and he felt pretty secure as Quinn too. The selection of clothes that fit Quinn's new size was limited, but when he tried on a blue sharkskin suit, Damon swooned. Quinn didn't want to invest in more clothes right now, not knowing if today's growth spurt was a one-time event, but this ought to do for tonight.
They found a romantic French restaurant where they only had to wait two hours for a table, giving time for the men to have their longest sustained conversation ever. Damon's memories of his own past seemed to be receding like a bad dream, with only the past 24 hours feeling real to him, so they mostly talked about their hopes for the future. After an extraordinary candlelit dinner fueled by much wine, Damon asked if he could drive the convertible home. Quinn asked, "Can you drive a stick?" Damon cupped a hand under the newly hefty bulge in his pants and assured Quinn that he could.
Damon tooled down Wilshire Boulevard, frequently glancing over at the sharp-dressed hunk in the passenger seat and smiling. When he passed the usual turn-off, Quinn asked, "Wasn't that my street?" Damon just smirked and kept driving toward the setting sun. When they arrived at the coast, a jazz band was playing a free concert on the Santa Monica Pier. Damon parked the car and led Quinn toward the music.
They hung on the edge of the crowd, Quinn with his arms around Damon, taking in the sights and sounds of the band and the sky and the ocean and the carnival rides, while remaining in their own little world. As a slow song began to play, Quinn asked if Damon would like to dance.
"I thought you would never ask," said Damon. "Literally."
Having been performing in musicals since he was in seventh grade, Quinn was by far the superior dancer, but he took it easy on his partner, just swaying back and forth as Damon rested his blue hair against Quinn's chest. Quinn stared at the darkening sky and wondered how it was possible for his life to have changed so radically in a single day. He had no idea that Damon was thinking the same thing.
When the concert ended, they returned to the convertible. This time Quinn drove, with Damon reclining so his head rested in Quinn's lap. He offered to blow Quinn as he drove, but Quinn did not want to end this perfect day by plowing into a freeway overpass while cumming on his windshield. Damon agreed to wait until they got home, contenting himself with nuzzling the hardening bulge under Quinn's shiny pants.
Once they reached Quinn's place, they had almost completely undressed each other in the short distance between the car and the front door. They stumbled inside and fell immediately onto the futon. Damon's cock grew stiff and rigid as he kneaded Quinn's impressive new muscles. He pushed Quinn down and straddled him, guiding the head of his cock toward Quinn's ass. Quinn flinched.
"What're you doing down there, young man?"
"I'm taking my new pink Cadillac for a test drive," Damon grinned.
"First you drive my convertible, now this? When did you get so aggressive?"
"Since I realized what I wanted." Damon eased the head of his cock into the virgin territory of Quinn's tight hole. Quinn shouted, his arms spread wide to grip the sides of the futon, his ring now a bright turquoise, just like Damon's. Damon bent down and kissed Quinn's chest, whispering, "It's okay, baby, it's okay."
As Damon's cock pressed deeper inside of him, the agony shifted to pleasure for Quinn, as he experienced a feeling he never knew he could crave. He spread his powerful hands over Damon's ass cheeks and helped provide thrust for Damon. When Damon came inside Quinn, they both moaned with satisfaction. After cuddling for a while, Damon offered to let Quinn fuck him, but Quinn took a rain check, already having had more excitement today than he could have possibly expected.
"In that case," said Damon, "I need to take a leak." He leapt from the futon and scurried naked into the bathroom.
Quinn lay spread-eagled, toying with his semi-hard cock and suddenly feeling envious of Damon's endowment. Moonlight filtered through the venetian blinds, illuminating the floor which was scattered with their discarded clothes and Damon's purchases from earlier in the day.
Quinn noticed a shadow moving past the blinds, but thought nothing of it until he heard a key sliding into the lock. He scrambled to find something to wear as the door swung open and Renee switched on the lights. She was lugging two suitcases and looked haggard, her usually stylish hair now a straggly mess. Quinn had only managed to get one leg of his sharkskin pants up to his knee.
"Renee! You're here!", shouted Quinn, trying to make up in volume what he lacked in enthusiasm.
She rubbed her eyes with exhaustion. "The shoot was canceled because a hurricane was heading for Baja. Didn't you get my text?"
Oh fuck, Quinn thought, I never did read that fucking text. "Yeah, of course I did. I just didn't expect you back so soon."
Renee glanced at the shambles of the room and said, "No, apparently not. What the hell happened here?"
"I, uh, just went on a shopping spree to celebrate. I wanted to wait to tell you when you got back. I got the part on that soap!"
"You did? That's great, honey." She walked over to hug Quinn, who gave her a friendly hug back. Renee was amazed by Quinn's size. "My god, how did you get so huge?"
"What do you mean? Just good diet and exercise."
Renee cast a skeptical eye. "I've only been away for two days. Nobody balloons like this in two days." She looked at the slim-fitting clothes strewn about the floor. "I'll tell you one thing, you're never going to fit into any of these baby clothes you bought. Didn't you try any of them on before you bought them?" Just then, Renee noticed her own striped shirt and leggings among the other clothes. She picked them up and showed them to Quinn. "What are these doing out?"
"I don't know. Honestly." And he WAS being honest. About that.
Renee heard a flush in the bathroom and her eyes turned accusingly toward Quinn. "Do you have another woman here?"
"What? No. NO. Absolutely not. Listen, why don't you go back to your place and get a good night's sleep and we can talk about all this in the morning when we've got clearer heads?" He tried maneuvering her toward the front door, but she outflanked him and dashed toward the bathroom door. She was about to knock when some naked twink with blue hair and a silver cock ring swung the door open. He smiled with surprise upon seeing Renee.
"Oh, hi!", he said, grinning. But as Renee reeled, looking back and forth from Quinn to Damon and trying to piece together what was going on, Damon put a hand to his lips and said, with concern, "Oh."
Renee felt like she had stepped into an alternate universe. The last thing she expected when she returned to L.A. was to discover her boyfriend Quinn's body had suddenly become so jacked. No, that's not true. The last thing she expected was to discover a blue-haired boytoy hiding naked in Quinn's bathroom. Scratch that. The last thing she expected was to discover that the blue boy in question was that sweet mild-mannered guy Damon who had first introduced Renee to Quinn.
She was now seated at Quinn's kitchen table across from Quinn and Damon. As soon as Damon emerged from the bathroom, Renee demanded an explanation. Quinn said she was owed that, but asked if they could at least get dressed first. Quinn pulled on the pants of the sharkskin suit he had bought earlier in the evening but he remained distractingly shirtless. Damon poked through the piles of his new clothes that were scattered around the living room floor, his pale white butt pointing up as he bent down. Renee turned away, embarrassed...after first taking an astonished look at Damon's surprisingly hefty penis. She would never have suspected he was so gifted down there, proving that you can't judge a cock by its cover.
Damon finally slipped into a bowling shirt and a pair of fashionably pre-torn blue jeans and walked over to the table, handing Renee a blue-and-white striped shirt and some black leggings. "These are actually yours."
"Yes, I know." Renee tossed them aside. "Do you have anything else that's actually mine?" Damon shook his head silently.
Damon took a seat beside Quinn at the table. He wanted so much to lean against Quinn's powerful shoulder for support, but that wouldn't be helpful in this situation. Instead, he brought his left foot onto his chair, placed both hands upon his hairless knee where it poked through a hole in his jeans, then rested his chin upon his hands. Quinn sat upright with his hands folded on the tabletop.
Arms crossed, Renee took a deep breath and tried to speak as calmly as possible. "So, can you tell me what exactly I walked into here?"
Quinn and Damon looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Neither was quite positive how to describe what had happened in the past day and a half. Damon deferred to Quinn, who took his best shot.
"Well, you know I was having trouble getting a fix on this character I auditioned for."
"The gay guy," said Renee.
"Right, the gay guy. I just wasn't feeling like I had a grasp of who he was, what he would look like, how his mind worked, what his needs were. So I asked Damie...Damon to come over and give me his advice."
"I see. And where did he give his advice first? In your mouth or in your ass?"
Both Damon and Quinn were outraged by this remark and shouted loudly. Renee immediately regretted it, and she motioned for the guys to quiet down. "I'm sorry. That was rude. But I think you can understand that this all has me a little...shaken up."
Quinn reached over and held her right hand in his left. "I do understand. These past couple of days have been a whirlwind for us too."
Renee looked down at Quinn's comforting hand and noticed the unfamiliar turquoise ring on his finger. Confused, she glanced over at Damon and saw an identical piece of jewelry on his hand. She let go of Quinn's hand. "Are you guys wearing matching rings?"
Quinn pulled his hand back, and Damon covered his ring with his chin. Quinn insisted, "It's not what you think. It's not like we're a couple or anything." Damon glanced at Quinn, miffed. It may have been a whirlwind, but Damon had indeed begun thinking of them as a couple.
"Oh, so you're not a couple," said Renee. "You just happen to have bought each other identical rings."
"We didn't buy them for each other. I bought them both," said Quinn, not exactly helping.
Renee looked at the clock on the microwave. It was 2:17am and she felt ready to collapse. "Can you just tell me if you two have been...doing this since we started dating?"
Before Quinn could reply, Damon reached across the table and took Renee's hand. "No, Renee. I would never in a million years try to break up a couple."
Renee stared at Damon's painted nails, then looked him in the eyes. "Isn't that precisely what you've done?" She then turned to Quinn and said, "I guess I can't be totally surprised. I've dated enough actors to know...that I should stop dating actors. But you're such a regular dude. I have a hard time picturing you being happy with..." She tried to come up with an apt description of the blue-haired waif across the table. "With some refugee from a rave."
She stood, taking her shirt and leggings in her arms. She crossed the room, opened the front door, grabbed her suitcases and said, "I'll come back tomorrow and pick up the rest of my things. Let me know when you two won't be here. I wouldn't want to interrupt anything." She walked outside and the door closed behind her.
Quinn stared at the door, feeling sad for Renee without feeling any remorse for what he and Damon had done. Damon also felt bad for Renee but had no regrets. He and Quinn had merely been carried away by irresistible, repressed longing for each other, right? Right?
Quinn had run out of words for the day. He walked over to the futon and fell onto it face-first. Within a minute, he was snoring. Damon walked over, sat beside Quinn on the bed and slid his hand gently across Quinn's broad, well-muscled back. Damon glanced at his clothes scattered about the floor and began to put them back in his shopping bags. He slipped on his flip-flops, quietly carried his bags outside and gently shut the door behind him. On his iPhone, he looked up the address for the city impound lot, then called a taxi to take him there to get his car.
* * *
In the morning, Damon woke up alone and naked on his own futon, back in his own crummy apartment. He looked at the pile of shopping bags heaped by the front door and knew he had to go back to work today to start building up the money to pay off his credit cards. He walked into the bathroom and took a look in the mirror. He had looked so different the last time he was at work, a mere two days ago. He was bound to be the talk of the office today, walking in with blue hair and pierced ears. He could minimize the impact by removing the blue nail polish and wearing some of his lackluster old clothes, but he'd be slipping right back into the old camouflage that had kept people from noticing him for so long. He didn't plan to hide himself any more. Let them talk. Damon could handle it.
The arrival of the new version of Damon in the office was almost a non-event. Partly it was because Damon had chickened out a bit and worn the least showy of the various outfits he had bought yesterday, even if a coral polo, white cargos and leather sandals were nothing like the nondescript clothes he typically wore. Partly it was because they were in L.A., where it seemed that most of the population lived their lives in a constant quest to be noticed, discovered and given their own reality show. But mostly it was because no one was really surprised that Damon was gay, no matter how meek and restrained his behavior had been. The blue hair was a surprising choice, but perhaps he had needed to make a bold, definitive statement. Most of his co-workers just felt relieved that they could stop using neutral pronouns when asking Damon if he had a "significant other" of if he had any plans to do anything with "anyone" on a holiday weekend.
* * *
Quinn's dreams were stressful all night. When he woke up, he felt like he'd just spent six hours watching Renee, Damon and Alexander have one non-stop argument. That's odd, thought Quinn. Why was Alexander in the fight and not me? But Alexander had been more forceful in defending his position than Quinn had been when he was trying to explain things to Renee. Alexander was unapologetic. If he wanted something -- or someone -- he found a way to get it, and felt no regrets for anyone who got hurt in the process. Much better than wishy-washy Quinn who might put on a tough act but, as soon as the performance ended, went right back to trying to be everyone's friend. Right now, Alexander's viewpoint had greater clarity, and seemed to be more defensible.
Quinn noticed the time and would have to hustle to get to the studio for his first meeting with the cast and crew. No time for a shower, and as he reached for his deodorant, he realized he felt no need to cover up his natural scent. Checking himself in the mirror, he could swear he looked even more pumped this morning. His serratus anterior were much more clearly defined over his ribs, and the V leading into his shorts was more prominent. The stay-at-home moms of America -- as well as the gay guys with DVRs -- were going to enjoy seeing Alexander back on their favorite soap.
He pulled on the white Oxford shirt he had worn last night, rolling up the cuffs to expose the bracelets that Damon had given him. His chest must have expanded overnight too, as the top three buttons of the shirt couldn't reach their buttonholes. He tucked the shirt tails into his sharkskin pants, the only pants he owned that would fit him any more.
Quinn felt his ego swell as he gave his name at the gate and was waved onto the lot. Sure, it was only a soap opera, but he could tell you a dozen great actors who served their time in soaps on their way to the Oscars. All he needed was a platform where people could notice him and he would be on his way.
A staffer from the show met him and guided him to the soundstage, where he spotted Lionel, the British director he had met yesterday at the audition. He was reintroduced to the show's producer and head writer, Betsy, who had also been there. She complimented him on his performance. "I've never seen anyone rebound from catastrophe to triumph quite so spectacularly. That's just what we want to see in Alexander."
Lionel breezed over and asked Betsy a quick question before the next take. He was delighted to see Quinn. "Why if it isn't our Alexander! Good to see you again, my boy. And aren't you fliing out that shirt nicely today. Don't get too used to that. You know our motto here: It's either 'no shirts' or 'no show'."
Betsy led Quinn on a quick tour of the set and introduced him to more people than he could ever hope to remember, including the cameramen, makeup people, even the other writers. When they got to wardrobe, two costumers sized up the new arrival. "It'll be a pleasure to dress you," said a slender young man, while his older female counterpart remarked, "Before the writers figure out how to undress you."
"Yeah, I've heard that clothing isn't a big chunk of the budget here," said Quinn.
Betsy asked Quinn to take off his shirt. "Maybe it'll give our designers here some ideas." Quinn did as he was asked, although he figured the male costumer was already getting ideas before Quinn disrobed. Betsy was surprised to see how pumped Quinn looked today. "That's funny. We were a little worried that you weren't buff enough yesterday, but I can't imagine why we thought that."
"Ooh," said the young designer, "I really like those leather cuffs. You'll have to tell me where you got them. And what an interesting ring. Is that sapphire?"
"Honestly, I don't know what it is. But I was hoping I could actually wear these things on the show. They seem like the sort of stuff that Alexander would wear, and they really helped me find the character."
Betsy nodded and said they would consider it. As the designers took initial measurements for Alexander's wardrobe. Quinn idly fiddled with his ring. His fingers had grown beefier, like the rest of his body. They might be forced to let him wear the ring as part of his costume, because it didn't seem like it was going to budge.
He heard a knock on the door and saw three very fit and handsome young men hanging in the doorway. "We heard there was new meat," said the swarthy one in the front. "Welcome to Topless Hospital, Alexander."
* * *
At the end of the workday, several of Damon's co-workers asked if he wanted to join them at happy hour to celebrate the end of the week. Damon was surprised and attributed their friendliness to his new look and attitude. If he thought back, he would have recalled that they were all very friendly to him when he started on the job, frequently inviting him to go drinking or to come to someone's party, but after Damon consistently turned them down out of shyness and insecurity, they stopped asking. Damon still turned them down tonight, but at least he had a genuine excuse to offer for once. "I think I'll be doing something with my fr...my BOYfriend," he smiled, shutting down his computer.
He felt light on his feet as he strolled to the parking garage and called Quinn. Damn. Voicemail. "Hi, babe, it's Damon. Damie. Hope everything was extra special on your first day! I was thinking we could go out for sushi and then I saw online there's a big dance at Arena which we might want to do after." Maybe he was being too bossy. Didn't want to spoil things by pushing too hard. "Unless you've got other ideas. Whatever. Anyway, give me a call and let me know, okay? Okay, byeeee." He hung up and considered texting too, but he didn't want to seem too needy. Quinn was probably still busy at the studio. Damon was sure he would call back when he got the chance.
* * *
"More tequila!", shouted Enrico, who played a brooding but sexy doctor on the soap. He was seated at the innermost side of the round booth at the Mexican restaurant, with each arm hanging over the shoulders of a large-breasted young woman.
"And more chips!", shouted Terry, who played a streetwise but sexy doctor on the soap and whose entire left hand was currently inserted below the waistline of the tight jeans worn by the buxom young woman who was currently nibbling his ear in the booth.
"And more salsa!", shouted Chad, who played a naive but sexy doctor on the soap and was currently "Lady and the Tramp"-ing a nacho chip clenched in his teeth, crunching his way toward the giggly young woman attempting to keep the other end of the chip between her front teeth.
"And more tequila!", shouted Quinn, who had just spent his first day getting to know his future co-stars and was now getting a first-hand glimpse of the kind of raucousness one could drum up on a Friday night with the benefit of minor televised fame and a secure paying gig. Not that outgoing, handsome guys like these would have had trouble making friends at any bar they entered, but they became even more popular when they told these girls that they were footing the bill. Terry leaned over to Quinn and whispered, "We know you're not on salary yet. We'll cover you too. Just have fun!"
At the moment, Quinn was having fun with the petite young woman sitting on his knee who was rubbing her hand across the smooth skin of Quinn's chest through the gap in his open shirt. She couldn't stop telling him how much she loved men with big muscles. Someone else at the table must have felt the same way, as Quinn felt bare toes sliding their way under the cuff of his pants and along his shin. At first, he suspected "Lady", but she was sitting fully on the bench of the booth with her feet tucked underneath her butt. No, the mystery footsie player was "the Tramp". Chad may be playfully eating chips for the rest of the world to see, but his tootsies were privately making moves on Quinn. The woman on Quinn's knee took Quinn's sudden erection as a compliment and gave him a big kiss, but Quinn kept his eyes fixed on Chad.
When the four actors finally staggered out of the cantina, Quinn had ditched the petite woman and was having trouble finding where to insert the key into the lock of his car -- even thought it was an unlocked convertible with the top and windows down. Chad wandered over, asking if Quinn needed any help.
Quinn informed him, "I'm fine."
"You sure are," Chad whispered in Quinn's ear, discreetly sliding his palm across Quinn's crotch. Quinn turned instinctively to kiss him, but Chad pulled back. "Not here. Come with me, I've got a beach house."
Chad yelled to Enrico and Terry, "Looks like the newbie's a lightweight. I'm gonna make sure he gets home. See you guys on Monday!" Quinn followed Chad to his car, which turned out to be a red Corvette. It took all of Quinn's remaining self-control not to ejaculate then and there. He climbed into the passenger seat and placed his hand lovingly on the stick shift. Chad shut his door, put his hand on top of Quinn's and planted a kiss on Quinn's lips. Quinn felt like his body was liquefying.
As the Corvette roared away toward the coast, a faint buzz was emerging from the trunk of Quinn's convertible back in the parking lot. When Quinn had gone to pump some iron with the other guys at the show's full-service exercise room, Quinn had tossed his cell phone into his gym bag. Where it still sat. In Quinn's trunk.
* * *
Damon hung up, frustrated that Quinn wasn't calling him back. Maybe he'd "come to his senses" and gone back to Renee. Damon started to beat himself up for becoming so attached so quickly to Quinn, when Quinn obviously could have pretty much anyone he wanted...of any gender. But before he could sink into depression, Damon rallied his spirits. While draining the last of a bottle of white wine he had bought on the way home, a bottle he had hoped he would be sharing with Quinn, Damon was modeling for himself in the bathroom mirror, trying on various items of his new wardrobe. He wrapped his arms around his smooth body, pursed his lips and waggled his semi-hard cock which hung loose through his fly. "Suck my dick, Quinn Brooks," he shouted defiantly. He stuffed his phone and wallet into a kicky little man-purse, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door and into the night.
Damon found a parking spot on the street a mere six blocks away from the club. He had gelled his blue hair so it jutted straight forward, hanging off his head like an extended cliff in a Road Runner cartoon. He wore a sheer short-sleeved shirt, Levi cut-offs so short that the bottom of the pockets were hanging out, and a pair of navy-blue Keds. If he was at all hesitant about his first solo excursion into gay bars since his big transformation, it wasn't evident in his purposeful stride and steel-eyed glare. Tonight, he was definitely on the prowl.
After 45 minutes waiting in line, Damon was reconsidering the wisdom of a sheer shirt and shorts on a chilly September night. By the time he got in, he was sure his skin was now color-coordinated with his hair, but it felt good to finally be indoors and surrounded by hundreds of male bodies which were both hot and warm. His energy level was high, he was making flirty eye contact, he was taking the initiative to start unintelligible shouted conversations as the beat pounded relentlessly and the floor periodically filled with fog. On the surface, he was having a good time, but it wasn't the same without Quinn nearby.
Damon headed to the bar for another glass of wine and pulled his phone from his bag. Still no messages. Even when Quinn used to blow off all of Damon's invitations to go out and do something, he had been unfailingly polite in promptly getting back to Damon. This wasn't like him. At least it wasn't like the old him.
Damon shoved his phone back into his bag and pulled out a wallet to pay for his drink. He heard a husky voice behind him say, "I got this one, cutie." Damon turned around and discovered an enormous bear of a man looming behind him. His long dark hair in a ponytail, the man wore a leather vest, pants and boots, and heavy silver chains around his neck. His chunky arms and chest were heavily tattooed, but it was hard to make out any of them due to his heavy body hair. Damon was pretty sure that was a mermaid on the guy's forearm, but the hair made her look more like a werewolf.
"You look cold, little buddy," the man said as he paid for Damon's drink and ordered a Miller Lite for himself.
"Maybe you could warm me up," said Damon, leaning against the bar and sticking out his ass provocatively. Damon didn't think this guy was really his type. Then again, he was barely out of the closet. How could he be so sure what his type was? He clinked his wine glass with the man's beer can and smiled, wishing Quinn would return his calls.
* * *
The Corvette reached Chad's oceanside home astonishingly quickly, or maybe Quinn just hadn't been paying attention to the time or the traffic. Through the entire drive, his eyes had been fixed on Chad, his collar-length strawberry-blond curls, his slightly pug nose, his plump lips, the whisps of facial hair, the freckles on his suntanned skin, his toned biceps and triceps which flexed every time he turned the steering wheel, his strong hands wrapped in leather driving gloves. Quinn had never felt free to ogle another man blatantly like this and he was enjoying the sensation.
Sure, he had been checking out Damon's body over the past couple of days, and he appreciated Damon's loyalty and friendship. Maybe he even loved the little guy. But Alexander would never let a prime cut of meat like Chad go undevoured. And could Quinn really give an authentic performance as the sexually omnivorous Alexander if the only gay sex he'd ever had was with one twink?
Chad kept the lights low as they entered his cozy beach house. The sound of the waves, crashing then receding, provided a constant pulse that echoed through the building. As he followed Chad, he couldn't help but notice how many framed photos of Chad lined the walls and were propped on the furniture. No photos of Chad with anyone, just solo shots of him fishing or surfing, plus plenty of publicity headshots. Most of the living room had been made into a home gym, with windows offering an amazing view of the ocean to the west and floor-to-ceiling mirrors lining the south wall.
"Want anything?", Chad asked from the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open, stocked with healthy foods and protein shakes on the lower shelves but an entire shelf of various beers at the top. Quinn also noticed that Chad had casually shed all of his clothes on the way to the kitchen, and the refrigerator light was now illuminating Chad's impressive musculature and outlining the shape of his substantial cock. Quinn stripped off his shirt and strode confidently into the kitchen, tilting Chad's head back and wrapping his lips around Chad's. Chad loosened Quinn's belt and tried to nudge Quinn's pants down, but Quinn's muscles had grown again today and the pants would not slip easily around Quinn's now massive glutes. Quinn grabbed one side of his open fly in each hand, pulling apart and shredding the fabric enough that he could step out of his pants.
Chad tried to say something, but Quinn's tongue in his mouth made him unintelligible. He pulled back and breathlessly instructed Quinn, "The bench, the bench," pointing across the room to the home gym. The two impressive physical specimens made their way across the living room without ever letting each other go. Quinn sat down on an exercise bench and lowered Chad's ass onto his now erect penis. Quinn was rock-hard and was really getting off on Chad's body. Chad was also getting off on Chad's body. Chad moaned with pleasure as he gazed at his ecstatic expression in the mirror. He reached up and grabbed the lat pulldown bar on the exercise machine, both to steady himself and to study how beautifully the refrigerator light outlined his exquisite deltoids and biceps. He pulled down the bar to give himself a little extra pump to admire.
After Quinn came the first time, they switched over to the inclined press bench. After that, the sofa. Then, the carpet. Eventually, the beach. Occasionally, Quinn would try to ask a question, but Chad shushed him quickly each time, not wanting to be distracted from his own sensations. By the time the sun rose, Quinn felt he knew every inch of Chad's body and barely anything about Chad's brain. Inside his own brain, Quinn could hear Alexander asking, "Isn't that enough?"
* * *
Before he even opened his eyes, Damon knew something was wrong. The sounds around him were unfamiliar, for one thing. The din of freeway traffic was so deafening that he felt like he must be lying on an exit ramp. The mattress beneath him was so lumpy and uncomfortable, he thought it must be stuffed with bowling balls, and he could feel an errant spring poking through the fitted sheet and scratching against his stomach. His asshole felt raw, his stomach queasy, his mouth parched. As his tongue explored his mouth, it detected notes of alcohol, tobacco and rubber. His whole head felt funny, beyond a typical hangover. He felt drained of energy and lacking in confidence. In that respect, Damon felt just like...old Damon.
He finally risked opening his eyes, which weren't ready for the blast of sunlight shining freely through the room's nearly transparent curtains. Damon was in a shabby motel room, with unexplainable splotches staining the stucco ceiling, decades of cigarette residue coating the wallpaper and god knows what mixture of bodily fluids clinging to the matted strands of green shag carpeting. He was lying naked on a double bed with grimy sheets and several used condoms. Careful where he stepped, Damon stood up and peeked through the drapes. No wonder the traffic sounded so loud -- the freeway couldn't have been more than forty feet away.
Damon walked gingerly to the bathroom, where soggy towels covered the floor. He leaned against the sink and checked himself in the mirror for any damage, but his face and body were still smooth and pale, except for the thin pink scratch mark across his tummy from the bedspring. He had major blue bedhead and had lost the stud from his left ear somewhere, but his cock ring was still in place. He couldn't put a finger on what was missing until he noticed his finger. His left ring finger. His ring was gone!
He tried to remember who he might have been here with. He knew it wasn't Quinn, although he wished it had been. The last thing he could remember was drinking far too much wine at the club with...some big hairy guy. A big hairy guy who was paying a lot of attention to Damon, pawing his skinny arms and his perky butt. Could he possibly have come here with that guy? He sucked on something caught in his front teeth and pulled out a short, curly, black hair. Not exactly DNA proof, but that pretty well confirmed his suspicions. He wondered how long ago the guy had left, and whether he would be returning.
As Damon looked around the room, he couldn't find his clothes. He checked under the bed. No clothes, but he saw a few other items there which were currently in the midst of decaying. Nothing in any of the dresser drawers except for a bible, from which someone at some point had torn out the entire Old Testament. The people who used this room probably didn't consult the Ten Commandments all that often anyway. No clothes in the bathroom, no clothes behind the TV, no clothes hanging on the lampshade. Damon even poked his head out the door, but saw no clothes outside. Shit, did the big guy ditch him here and take all of his clothes as well as his ring? Why would anyone do that? Unless...
Damon suddenly got a sinking feeling. He hadn't noticed his man-purse anywhere in the room either. Where he kept his iPhone. And his keys. And his wallet. With his credit cards. And his driver's license. That showed his home address. Which the big guy could be ransacking at this very moment.
Wrapping a soggy bath towel around his skinny waist. Damon ran to the motel office and spoke to the woman working behind two sheets of bulletproof glass. He shouted through the slot at the bottom of the window, "Were you working last night when I checked in?"
The woman droned, "Yes, sir." She couldn't say she spent much time studying the faces of the motel's guests, but she was fairly confident that only one scrawny blue-haired white boy had registered last night.
"Do you remember who was with me? Maybe a big hairy guy? Leather vest?"
She shook her head. "I don't recall anyone with you, sir."
Damon banged his head against the window, rattling the bulletproof glass. He leaned down again and called weakly through the gap, "Thank you for your help."
The woman said, mechanically, "You have a nice day, sir."
Damon's bare feet slapped against the cement as he made his way back to the room. When he tried the knob, he realized that the door had locked behind him. But there hadn't been a key inside the room anyway. Besides, he had no belongings left in there to retrieve. Tying a tighter knot in the towel around his waist, Damon took a seat at the side of the motel's drained pool, dangling his feet into the air at the deep end. Sure, he felt ripped off and dejected, but there was something more bothering him. Those feelings of pride, confidence and self-worth which had elevated his mood in the past few days were totally gone and he had reverted back to the same old meek, self-doubting Damon. He had felt so great dancing with Quinn on the pier. No, the good feeling came earlier, when they were at the French restaurant. No, it was definitely earlier than that. When they were fucking, Damon thought, starting to wonder if he could really have been that lucky to go to bed with Quinn Brooks. But, no, he was feeling positive about himself even before the fucking. Way back in the old lady's shop when Quinn bought him...
...the ring!
* * *
Quinn woke to something hard beneath him and something sticky on his face.
As he felt around, he realized he was flat on his chest on Chad's redwood balcony, his naked buns baking in the mid-morning sun. He reached up to his forehead, where a Post-It note had been attached. Quinn peeled it off and tried to read Chad's nearly illegible printing. "OUT 4 A GUN BRITE BUCK"? With a little more study, Quinn deciphered it as "OUT 4 A RUN. B RITE BACK."
Quinn stood up, giving the neighbors brunching on their deck next door a clear view of Quinn Junior. Quinn just smiled and waved. "Morning!"
Quinn slid open the balcony door and stepped into Chad's living room. He couldn't resist checking out his reflection in the wall of mirrors. Damn, you just keep getting better, he thought with a wicked smile, grabbing his cock in one hand while he reached for a banana with the other. He peeled the banana and devoured it quickly, then scoured the kitchen for more food. His metabolism must be going nuts with his body's sudden growth, as he was famished. He whipped up a protein smoothie, and then another, before he felt even slightly satisfied.
The idea of a run along the beach sounded nice. Maybe he would catch up to Chad. He searched the house for running gear that would fit him. He located some Speedo Jammer shorts that he could just barely squeeze into and hit the beach barefoot. He was still getting used to carrying so much extra muscle, but his endurance seemed to have increased along with it, and he found himself racing along faster than he had ever run in his life.
He spotted another runner sprinting ahead of him, his lean muscles clearly visible. If it were possible, this guy might have negative body fat. Quinn shifted into overdrive to catch up with the guy, then eased back to stay even. The runner clearly felt challenged, so he kicked it up and pulled away, but Quinn wasn't going to let him get away. For the next mile, the lead seesawed until Quinn finally hit the wall and collapsed on the sand. The other runner laughed, victorious, then jogged back toward Quinn, still moving to avoid cramping up.
"You move pretty fast for such a big guy," the runner told him. Quinn would have responded, but he was still panting too heavily. "You got that much endurance at everything?"
Quinn stared at the runner's shock of red hair, his gaunt but handsome face, his fit body and the bulge under his fluorescent yellow running shorts. Five minutes later, Quinn was underneath a pier, leaning against a support column with his hands clutching the runner's shoulder muscles. The runner's red hair bobbed back and forth as he worked his tongue along Quinn's arching shaft. Quinn brushed a thumb gently along the runner's cheek. When did I become such a slut?, Quinn wondered, but at that moment, he shot his load, dislodging any deeper thoughts for the time being.
* * *
It's amazing what people throw away, if you just go looking for it. Damon knew he wasn't going to make it all the way back to West Hollywood barefoot and wearing nothing but a towel. His car hadn't been in the motel's parking lot, meaning either the hairy guy had stolen it or they had driven here in the hairy guy's vehicle, reducing Damon's current options to walking or hitchhiking. He checked in dumpsters and trash cans as he walked along and, one by one, found discarded bits of clothing which more or less fit him. He ignored the stains and the stench that coated the sparkly stretch pants and the One Direction t-shirt. He spotted several pairs of sneakers hanging from their laces across telephone lines, but couldn't figure out a way to retrieve them. Eventually, he located a bamboo sandal for his right foot and a zebra-striped Vans slip-on for the left. Frankly, he had worn sillier outfits in the past few days.
By the time he reached Melrose Avenue, he must have walked ten miles. He desperately needed water, he was developing blisters on his right foot, and his pale skin was guaranteed to be lobster-colored and painful by tomorrow morning. But it was worth it. He had finally made it to the old lady's store. He could get an answer to why both he and Quinn had experienced such radical changes, and why Damon had suddenly lost his mojo this morning. He reached the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.
He noticed a little sign on the inside of the door bearing the face of a clock, declaring "WE'LL BE BACK" with the hands set to 2pm.
Damon slumped to the sidewalk, exhausted. Enough pedestrians took pity on this pathetic-looking guy and tossed him spare change that he was able to buy himself a bottle of water at a convenience store across the street. Walking out of the store, he saw the old lady unlocking the door. Seeing a disheveled crazy man bolting through traffic mid-block and heading straight toward her, the shopkeeper hurriedly got inside and slammed the door in his face. Damon screamed through the front window, "You gotta tell me what's going on! Look, remember me?" He pointed to his blue hair. She finally realized who it was. "Someone stole my ring. I need your help!"
The storekeeper unlocked the door and let him inside, reeling from his pungent aroma. When he moved toward a rack of delicate vintage clothes, she said, "Please don't stand by those. I'd never get the stench out." He looked too weak to stand, so she led him to her stool behind the counter.
Damon finished off his bottle of water and took a minute to catch his breath before speaking softly. "I need you to tell me about those rings you sold us. What do they actually do?"
She composed her thoughts. "Well, to put it simply, they help you become the person you want to be. They free you of your inhibitions and let you explore your options."
"So the ring didn't make me dye my hair and everything else? It just gave me the balls to do it?"
"The ring may have given your balls a little...nudge. The color of the ring showed where you were on the scale from black being totally straight to bright blue being totally gay. Only you can say where on that scale you feel the most genuinely yourself."
Damon thought back. Before he put on the ring, he was barely acknowledging his sexuality, let alone embracing it. After the ring, he felt like he could be wild and try anything, no matter how outrageous. Maybe he had gone a little overboard, probably overcompensating for years of self-repression, but somewhere in the turquoise range, Damon felt like he was in a comfort zone, living his life the way he had always wished he could.
"So if I want to feel that way again, I guess I need to buy another ring?"
The woman took Damon's hand and assured him, "If the ring taught you who the real you is, then just be the real you. You don't need a ring for that."
Damon considered that. Maybe the ring had helped him realize that he did have the strength to be himself. "But what about the ring you sold my friend?"
"He asked for something that would make him feel gay. Didn't it work?"
"It worked great. But he wanted to ACT gay! For a role! On TV! He didn't want to BE gay in real life!"
"Are you sure about that?"
Damon still wasn't, entirely. Quinn definitely embraced his changes once they started happening, but Damon was never sure if that was just research for his character. "So once he takes off the ring, I guess he'll go back to acting the way he did before?"
"Maybe. Unless he decides he likes his new self better."
Damon shook his head. If he hadn't seen and experienced these changes personally, he would never have thought them possible. "You really should've explained all this up front."
"Ah, but life is all about unexpected discoveries. Think of all the fun you would have missed."
Damon looked down at the hodgepodge of stinky clothing he was wearing and didn't feel very fun right now. "How about the other stuff you sold us? Like that cock ring? Did that read my mind too and adjust my cock to the length I liked best?"
"No, that just made your penis bigger," she said, matter-of-fact.
Damon shoulders sagged. "Could I borrow your phone, please?" She pointed Damon to a rotary phone on the wall in the back room, then had to talk him through how to use it. He wanted to call Quinn and check up on him, but he had no clue what Quinn's number was or really what anyone's number was. They were all stored in memory on Damon's stolen iPhone. Instead, he got the number for a cab company that could take him the rest of the way home. He borrowed money from the shopkeeper to pay for the taxi.
When he reached his apartment, all he wanted to do was walk inside and collapse on his futon. But he got a bad feeling when he saw the key stuck in the front door. Damon turned the knob, swung the door open and discovered that the big hairy guy had indeed come by and stolen most of his belongings, including the futon. All of Damon's new clothes were gone, leaving behind only the dullest or most unsightly relics from his past. He really would be starting from scratch, but at least he now had a sense of where he wanted to end up. He wasn't likely to be as flamboyant as he had gotten in the past few days, but he would never go back to being Mr. Camouflage.
* * *
After his blowjob under the pier, Quinn kept strolling toward Venice Beach. When he reached the outdoor weightlifting area known as Muscle Beach, he stopped to watch the bodybuilders working out for the enjoyment of the spectators passing by. Quinn's own muscles had grown huge enough that he could fit right in, and he found himself itching to get in there and lift. He felt a gigantic palm on his chest as he tried to enter and a towering muscleman asked Quinn if he was a member. Quinn explained that he was just passing by and didn't have any money on him. A short but powerfully built man nearby shouted, "Tramon, let him in. I'll pay his fee for the day."
Tramon let Quinn onto the hallowed ground, and Quinn approached his benefactor. "Thanks, man. You didn't have to do that."
"Call me curious. I wanted to see if all those muscles were just for show." He extended his hand, told Quinn his name was Dwayne, and offered to spot Quinn on the clean-and-jerk. Half an hour later, Quinn and Dwayne were back at Dwayne's condo, smoking pot and jerking each other off. After a while, Quinn asked to borrow some clothes from Dwayne, then continued on his walking tour of the coast. He found himself locking eyes with every cute guy he walked past. Most of them looked away in disgust and embraced their girlfriends as proof of their lack of interest, but he did end up making out with three of them (two as a couple) before the sun went down. His needs were growing insatiable.
He fell asleep on a bench and spent most of Sunday wandering up and down the beach, trying to remember where Chad lived. Eventually it occurred to him to call the office of the soap opera and ask if they could give him the address. When he finally convinced the operator that he was really a cast member on the show who had just started on Friday, he was patched through to a frantic production assistant, who immediately connected him to Betsy.
"Where have you been? We've been trying to track you down all weekend!"
"I dunno," said Quinn, "just kickin' back."
"Everyone was so excited after meeting you that we've decided to introduce your character sooner, in the episode we shoot tomorrow. I've already emailed you the script pages."
"Actually, I'm not at home and don't have access to a computer right now. Is there any way I can get a hard copy?"
"Of course. Where are you?"
Quinn looked around for a landmark. "I'm by the ocean."
"Could you narrow that down a bit? At least tell me it's the Pacific."
Quinn walked to the nearest streetcorner and gave her an address. A production assistant arrived within half an hour, and he asked the PA to drive him to the Mexican restaurant where his car was still parked. He went inside and ate a few burritos while he studied his script, then sat in the convertible for a few more hours, reading and rereading his lines.
By the time he arrived at the studio in the morning, Quinn was locked in the zone, thinking like Alexander, being Alexander. Betsy was relieved to see Quinn and led him toward his dressing room, where she proudly pointed out the star bearing the name "Quinn Brooks".
"What do you think?", she asked. Quinn seemed ambivalent, which surprised her. "You look unhappy. It's usually a pretty big moment when an actor gets his own dressing room for the first time."
"No, it's great," Quinn said in a tone that conveyed it wasn't great. "Is there any way you could put Alexander's name on the door instead? It might help me to stay in character."
"Maybe you won't want to stay in character. Alexander is kind of a dick."
Betsy laughed lightheartedly, but Quinn took it personally. "I don't know. I think he's got a lot of admirable qualities. He's a bit all over the place in the script, but I have some notes on how we can make him more consistent."
Betsy smiled stiffly. Was Quinn unaware that she was not only his boss but also the person who had written that "all over the place" script? "I look forward to that," she lied, and led him to wardrobe.
Quinn took off his shirt and the male costumer gasped as he saw how much bigger Quinn had become over the weekend. As Quinn tried on his first outfit, he couldn't even get his arms through the sleeves. The female costumer sighed and informed Betsy it was going to take them a while to alter Quinn's wardrobe. Betsy nodded, then placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I know I said we wanted you buff, but maybe you should lay off the exercise for a bit. We wanted a hunk, not the Hulk."
Betsy was called away, but the male costumer whispered to Quinn, "Can you tell me what you're taking? I've never seen results like this." Quinn looked indifferent, so the costumer returned his attention to measuring Quinn's inseam.
Lionel, the director, walked past wardrobe and noticed Quinn. "Oh, there's our dear boy. Big first day, eh, Quinn?"
Quinn glanced away from the mirror where he was admiring his physique to address Lionel. "I'd prefer if you would call me Alexander."
Lionel chuckled until Quinn's expression convinced him the request was serious. "Oh, by all means, Alexander. We shall await you on the set. Verily."
"I'll be there whenever these two are done," pointing toward the costumers.
Lionel nodded and left. When he encountered Betsy on the soundstage, he informed her, "Mr. Daniel Day-Lewis would prefer that we call him Alexander for the duration."
Betsy rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. I'm trying to cut the kid a break. Maybe it's just first day jitters."
The production was running an hour late by the time Quinn reached the floor, the costumers still making some last-minute alterations. Chad approached Quinn and asked quietly, "Where did you take off to the other day? I was worried sick about you all weekend."
Quinn waved a hand at him dismissively. "Please, I'm trying to focus." Chad fumed, thinking several words which he would not be allowed to say on the show.
Lionel began to block the first scene, but as soon as they reached the first line, Quinn -- ahem, ALEXANDER -- loudly voiced his concerns about some of the dialogue. "Does any of this seem far-fetched to the rest of you? I realize it is only a soap opera, but come on. Can we get the writers in here to punch this up a bit?"
Lionel pulled Quinn aside and whispered, "I don't disagree that you might have some valid points. Unfortunately, we're already behind schedule, Quinn."
"Alexander", said Quinn.
"Yes. Quite."
Betsy walked over, asking what the problem was.
"The problem," said Quinn, "is the words and the fact that I have to say them."
Betsy bristled, trying desperately to control her temper. "I'm afraid there's no time for rewrites right now, so if you can just deliver the lines as written, maybe we can talk about future scripts when we have a bit more time to think."
"Yeah, but this is the first time that people are going to see me and they'll think that I'm the one who's bad because I'll be the one saying these shitty fucking lines."
Betsy was seething. Although she was a foot shorter than Quinn, she brought all of her anger and passion to bear and told him in a low but firm whisper. "I am going to let you go home and rest, because you are clearly not in the right frame of mind to work today. And while you are there, I would like you to think long and hard about whether you want to stay there, or whether you would prefer to come back here and do your job. You can call my assistant when you've decided." She spun on her heel and exited the silent soundstage.
Lionel nervously called for an early lunch.
* * *
Quinn drove home in a fury. If he encountered any red lights along the way, he certainly didn't notice or obey them. He screeched his convertible into its parking space and stormed into his apartment. He had blown it. He'd submerged so deeply into his character that sensible, fun-loving Quinn wasn't even on that soundstage today. Just Alexander the arrogant prick.
Quinn looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and was sickened by what he saw. Everything about him seemed phony, like he was looking at someone he no longer recognized. He ripped off Alexander's shirt and pants and stuffed them in the garbage. He yanked the leather and silver cuffs off his wrists and flung them across the room. Immediately, he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. Exhausted, he flopped face first onto his futon, his arms hanging limply over the side. He sobbed into a pillow and breathed heavily as he found himself relaxing, unaware that his body was deflating like a popped Macy's parade balloon. The giant muscles that had exploded on his frame since last week gradually receded, their sculpted definition softening, his former leanness returning to his frame. When he reached the size he had been when this all began, the ring on his left hand was pulled downward by gravity and fell onto the floor. Quinn let out a deep exhale and fell asleep.
Hours later, after the sun had set, he was awakened by a tapping on his door. He stretched his arms and shouted, "Who is it?"
"Damon."
Quinn smiled. He needed a friend right now. He walked to the door and opened it. Damon stood on the welcome mat with a look of concern. His hair was still blue, but without any gel and combed straight back, looking about as conservative as blue hair can look. His skin, by contrast, was sunburnt red. He still had a stud in his right earlobe, but wore no eye makeup. His skinny unadorned arms hung slack from the sleeves of a white v-neck t-shirt, tucked into tight black jeans. His nails still had blue polish, with his toes wriggling in flip-flops from the discount bin at CVS.
The first thing Damon noticed about Quinn was that his old body was back and that the cuffs were off his wrists. He was happy to see that, since he never had any complaints with the way Quinn looked to begin with. He also saw that Quinn was no longer wearing the ring.
"Hey," said Damon, optimistically.
"Hey," said Quinn, exhaustedly.
"Just hadn't seen you in a few days. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"That's nice. You're probably the only person in L.A. who gives a shit."
"Oh, come on, there's..." Damon thought. "I'm sure there's lots of people. How are things going on the soap?"
"I was a complete jackass today, so they sent me home." Quinn fell heavily onto his futon.
"Sent you home? Did they fire you?"
"Not exactly. They told me to think about if I wanted to come back."
"And you're gonna tell them yes, right? You can't just blow off an opportunity like this." Damon risked sitting on the futon beside Quinn, but didn't make any physical contact. He had no idea how much of the past few days Quinn even remembered, or if he'd be embarrassed or ashamed about how intimate the two of them had gotten.
"I don't know. I'm not sure I want to be that Alexander guy."
"I know this isn't my specialty, but do you really have to BE him? Can't you just, like, ACT?"
Quinn laughed for the first time all day. He reached up and slapped Damon on the shoulder, giving his body a friendly shake. "I can always count on you to put me in my place, Damie."
Damie? Quinn had never called Damon that until he started wearing the ring. Quinn repositioned himself so he was kneeling on the futon. He put his arms around Damon's shoulders and kissed his neck. Damon got goosebumps, but knew that he had to tell Quinn everything he had heard from the shopkeeper about the magic ring.
After hearing Damon's explanation, Quinn leaned back on his elbows and stared at the ceiling to process this new information. "So everything I did while I was wearing the ring was just me exploring my sexuality so I could learn what felt the most honest and real?"
"Yeah, basically."
"Kind of the way I figure out how to play a character. I keep doing the wrong things until I finally stumble into what feels right."
"If that's how it works. You're the actor here."
"Oh, I am? Does that mean I can be the one who wears the makeup again?"
Damon turned with a smile. "I'm still wearing the fruit-punch lipstick."
"Really?", Quinn asked. He leaned in and gave Damon a quick kiss on the lips. "Mmm. Still as good as I remembered."
Damon didn't want to set himself up for getting hurt. He looked Quinn in the eyes and said, "All those feelings you've had over the last few days, you know they might just have been you trying to figure out how to be Alexander. They might have nothing to do with what the real you wants."
"Yeah, but the real me is here right now, and he finally knows what he wants."
"Seriously?"
Quinn grinned. "That woman at the store was right. I've always been a little gay. I just refused to acknowledge it. But for the right guy, I think I can be a lot gay." He pushed Damon back onto the futon and kissed him. Damon yelped a bit as he pulled the v-neck over his head, as the fabric brushed against his sunburn. Quinn helped him wriggle out of his jeans, but they had only been making out for a couple of minutes when Quinn stopped.
"Second thoughts?", Damon asked, his worst fears confirmed.
"No, I just realized I've really got to act tomorrow. I need you to help me memorize my lines. But first, I'm taking you out to dinner. Just give me a minute to shower up." Quinn hopped to his feet, kissed the top of Damon's head and went into the bathroom.
Damon's heart was skipping. He looked down from the edge of the futon and saw Quinn's ring lying on the floor. Damon picked up the little troublemaker and examined it. Hard to believe something so small could cause such huge changes. Damon clutched it in his hand, stood up and walked to the front door. Standing naked in the doorway, he hurled the ring as hard as he could, with no clue where it landed. He was just glad to get rid of it. As he walked back in, he noticed the leather-and-silver cuffs on the floor and pondered what to do with them.
Quinn jumped out of the shower, wiped off the mirror and smiled, happy to see himself looking back again. He felt tremendously calm and, for the first time in his life, certain about himself.
"Q?", Damon called from the living room, a hint of worry in his voice.
"What, D?", asked Quinn as he swung open the door.
Damon stood in the middle of the living room, wearing the cuffs on his wrists. In the brief time since he had tried them on, the cuffs had already enlarged the skinny young man's muscles so he resembled a competitive diver. His arms actually had distinct bulges, his pecs and abs had the beginnings of true definition, and his legs, already his best feature, gained significant size and tone.
Damon smiled at Quinn and asked, "Can you help me pick out some clothes?"

Hello. My name is Ryan and I am a geek.
Honestly, I've tried to make myself look cooler with pierced ears, tattoos, and bling, but I'm afraid all of that only emphasizes how desperately I'm trying not to look like the short, skinny white boy I am.
In high school, I did have a few girls who liked me and told me I was cute, but it's not like they were ever gonna date me. No, they wanted to date the jocks, then call me on the phone afterwards and dish, weeping about what a jerk the jock had been. To them, I was the "gay best friend" that every romantic comedy and sitcom told them they needed as an accessory.
Never mind that I wasn't actually gay.
I suppose I couldn't blame them for making the assumption. It's not like I was doing anything that would prove them wrong. Like, say, having sex with a girl.
I'm only five-seven and I've always had, like, zero muscle-mass. My folks knew how much it bugged me to be so puny, so Dad bought me a set of weights, but sweating and straining just to curl a fifteen-pound dumbbell was not my idea of a fun time. Besides, all that exertion never seemed to add an ounce to my lanky-ass body. The weights sat in a corner of my bedroom, growing cobwebbier by the day.
I started college with the naive hope that it would be a less superficial environment than goddamn high school and people would put more value on intelligence than appearance. As my parents were wishing me goodbye, Mom couldn't stop crying and calling me "my baby", right there in my dorm room, right in front of my dick of a roommate, who was barely stifling his laughter. I just knew he would be mocking me and calling me "Baby" from then on.
Fortunately, Dad didn't cause that kind of embarrassing scene, but he did slip me a parting gift as we walked back to the car. It was a new digital camera that they were working on at the tech company where he works. "It's a prototype, kid, so be extremely careful with it. Don't leave it lying around and, for god's sake, don't let anybody else use it." I assured him I wouldn't, and he smiled back, "I know you won't, son. Hey, snap a selfie once in a while and send it to me, so your sad old parents can see how you're adjusting to your new life." I got a lump in the pit of my gut. I thought I would be happy to finally be off on my own, but I think it was just as hard for me to watch my folks drive away as it was for them to leave me behind.
Dad rolled down the window as he drove past and said, seemingly as an afterthought, "There's some pretty sweet software on that camera. You should fiddle around with it." Then he winked. My dad was a brilliant scientist, but he could be kind of a doofus. (Like father, like son, right?) I had never seen him fuckin' wink in my life. Glad my roommate wasn't around to see that.
As the car disappeared in the distance, I heard my roommate yelling at me. "Hey, Baby, we're gonna go eat at the commons. You wanna come with us, Baby?" I looked over and saw him give me an exaggerated wink. He was surrounded by a group of similar bros, all testosterone and stupidity in their muscle shirts and backwards baseball caps. The other dudes followed my roommate's lead, cracking up and calling me "Baby" without even knowing why. What a barrel full of douchebags.
I already hated college.
The actual school part was fine, but all the social skills I never learned in high school might have come in handy here. By the first Saturday night, while everyone else in the dorm was out getting shit-faced, laid or both, I was sitting in my room, alone and depressed. On my desk, I noticed the camera Dad had given me and decided I ought to let the 'rents see how their son was coping...or wasn't.
I stood in front of the mirror in my small-size t-shirt and my skinny jeans and attempted to smile, but a smile would have been false advertising. Better to show how I was actually feeling. With a frown on my lips and sadness in my eyes, I snapped the shutter and the photo filled the digital screen on the back of the camera. Christ, I looked about twelve. No wonder I didn't fit in here.
I touched the screen with my thumb, intending to delete this grim photo, when a menu of options popped onto the screen. Great, just what I needed, fuckin' Instagram. The only thing that could make me look more pathetic would be looking pathetic in sepia tones.
But I noticed that the options extended beyond the usual filters, color, brightness, contrast and cropping. Like, for interest, "BACKGROUND". I could edit the background? When I clicked on that, a circle popped up onscreen with the word "DORM" at the top. Damn, photo recognition software is getting advanced if it can tell just from the picture that I'm in a dorm. I figured it must use GPS or something to figure that out.
I grazed my thumb over the circle and, like the click-wheel on my dad's ancient iPod, it allowed me to cycle through other options. The first one I stopped on was "CHURCH". Amazingly, the software immediately replaced the postered walls behind me in the photo with a massive stained-glass window. I had never seen any design software that could so swiftly and seamlessly alter an element of a photo like that. It would have taken me ten minutes of clipping and erasing in Photoshop to accomplish what the camera had done in an instant.
As I scrolled through other options, there was my sorry ass standing in a restaurant, on a beach, on a boat, in front of the Eiffel Tower. When I landed on "LOCKER ROOM" -- just a blue-green wall and some kind of door -- I must have accidentally clicked the "ACCEPT" button in the middle of the circle, because an hourglass appeared and animated sand fell through it as the background rendered in high resolution.
From out of nowhere, I started to feel very claustrophobic. The air around me seemed to be thickening, like an invisible layer of warm Jell-O wrapping itself around my body. I couldn't move as this sensation enveloped me. And then, BOOM, it was over. It felt like I had passed through a gooey membrane and come out clean on the other side. I dropped to my knees, gasping for air, happy to still be alive.
A voice echoed from above me, "You okay, little dude?"
I looked up and discovered I was no longer in my dorm room but in a locker room. I was sprawled on the hard tile floor, and a massively pumped weightlifter was looming over me.
"I didn't even see you come in," he said, extending a hand, which I gratefully accepted. He practically dislocated my arm as he yanked me to my feet. I thanked him and he patted me on the back with his beefy palm, knocking the wind out of me again. As he walked out, I could hear the heavy clanging of weights in the next room.
I stared in the mirror and saw the same old me with a new background. The turquoise walls perfectly matched the photo. I looked back at the camera, still clutched in my palm, and wondered what other astonishing alterations it could make.
"CLOTHING" was the next option. The first click-wheel offered general categories ("SHIRT", "PANTS", etc.), which opened into sub-categories once you clicked them. When I chose "SHIRT", the display correctly identified that I was wearing a "T-SHIRT" in the photo. I then scrolled through the menu as my purple tee morphed onscreen into everything from an "ANGORA SWEATER" to a "ZEBRA-SKIN VEST". On the more revealing selections, the camera accurately recreated parts of my body, like my bony shoulders and my sunken chest, which you couldn't even see in the original photo. This whole experience was simultaneously creeping me out and making me hard.
When I selected "TANK TOP", it allowed me to choose from a huge array of colors, patterns, and logos. A Gold's Gym shirt seemed the most incongruous on my weakling's body, so I went the ironic route and hit "ACCEPT". I braced myself for the Jell-O feeling again, but it didn't strangulate my whole body this time, just my torso. My chest and arms felt shrink-wrapped as my purple shirt shifted through the color spectrum through blue and green before stopping at yellow, and the arm and neck holes grew wider and wider until an authentic Gold's Gym tank was draped limply over my gaunt frame.
Like a kid on Christmas morning, I searched frantically for what other unexpected gifts might be waiting inside the camera. "BODY TYPE" seemed too good to be true. As before, the dial had automatically set the baseline to correspond to my current state: in this case, "ECTOMORPH". One click to the left landed me on "ENDOMORPH" and I watched on the screen as my body ballooned to a level of obesity that looked comically implausible and dangerous for my health. I spun the dial in the other direction, which showed how I would look as a "MESOMORPH".
I'll be honest, I nearly came in my pants when I saw my head on the body of a well-built jock, with solid pecs that seemed ready to burst the straps of my tank top and bulging shoulders and biceps that looked ready to burst through my skin. I could have happily chosen "ACCEPT" immediately, but was curious what other options were available. "BEAST" amped the muscle enlargement further to that of a competition weightlifter, while "BEHEMOTH" pushed the limits of plausibility past the biggest steroid abuser alive into the realm of comic-book superheroes. I knew I would be more than satisfied as a simple toned mesomorph, but I bumped myself just slightly into don't-fuckin'-fuck-with-me "BEAST" mode.
My thumb pressed "ACCEPT" and I waited for the constricting feeling again, but this change went the opposite direction, as if my body was exploding from the inside. The cells under my skin were churning, multiplying, creating lumps of muscle on my weak arms and narrow chest, veins surging and surfacing with each heartbeat, inflating me into a slab of prime beef. My bones were aching, stretching, thickening, turning my fragile limbs into sturdy weapons. By the time the evolution stopped, I was closing in on six feet and over two hundred pounds.
Adding some final touches, I swapped out my ripped Levi's for shiny workout pants and chose a simple baseball cap from the "HEADWEAR" menu. I couldn't resist turning it backwards. Since I already looked like such a bro now, I might as well commit all the fuckin' way. When in Bro-land, do as the Bro-men do. Satisfied with my makeover, I hit "SAVE" and slid the camera into the pocket of my shorts.
I stepped out of the locker room and discovered I was in the weight facility used by the college's varsity athletes. I couldn't imagine a more alien environment, but as I checked my reflection against the other jocks around me, I now fit in perfectly. I walked straight toward the free weights to see just how much this body could do. I grabbed two sixty-pound dumbbells off the rack, lifting them as if they were nothing. The massive guy who had found me on the locker-room floor walked over to give me friendly tips on my form, giving no indication that he recognized me as the "little dude" from our earlier meeting. I wondered how long he had worked to become so ripped. I bet it was longer than the ten minutes it had taken me.
I couldn't believe how cool it felt to be accepted by my fellow lifters, guys who would have looked at me with pity an hour ago. They didn't seem to get my geeky jokes, but I found that was easily fixed. I just opened up the camera, selected "IQ" and slid the dial down about twenty points. I immediately felt a whole lot more relaxed and shit. I figure when exam time comes, I'll just take another selfie and boost the old IQ back up again. Sure hope I remember to do that.
I also couldn't stop staring at the other guys' rock-solid arms and wide backs and firm asses. I hoped no one noticed that I was getting a major chubby that was tenting my workout pants. I clicked open the camera to see what options it offered for "ORIENTATION" and discovered that the dial had already set itself to indicate that I was "BISEXUAL". Well, shit. Maybe those chicks back in high school were half-right after all. I'm always the last to know anything.
Returning to my dorm room, I stripped off my shirt and admired my bitchin' new body in the mirror, exploring the crevices of my six pack with my fingertips. I was sure of at least one thing: my lame-ass roomie wouldn't be calling me "Baby" any more. Not unless he wanted to get his ass kicked. Or unless I wanted him to suck my dick.
I decided to text the photo to Dad, who would undoubtedly be curious to see what his gizmo had accomplished. I messaged him:
"Played around with the camera tonight. Thought you'd be impressed with how quickly I've adjusted. I think you're gonna sell a lot of these cameras. Thanx, Dad!!!"
I followed up with an afterthought:
"Please send money for new clothes. xo"
After I texted my dad the photo showing how much his camera had changed me, I zonked out pretty fast. Growing six inches and eighty pounds in one night will do that to a guy.
Not sure whether it was the sound or the smell of the fart that woke me up, but the combination of the two was lethal. I rubbed my eyes and held my breath as I heard the low chuckling of my dumbshit roommate Cole. The fucker was plastered, and his idea of subtle humor was to wake up his roommate at 3am and fart in his face.
"Hey, baby, can I borrow a diaper from you?", he said in a demented whisper, hardly able to contain his laughter. Even his dimwit buddies hanging in the doorway were telling him he was being immature and should leave me alone.
I just reached up and gripped his wrist, then twisted his arm around his back, amazed by my strength. He sure wasn't expecting that from his wimpy roommate.
"Ow, ow ow!," he yelped. He whispered to his pals by the door, "Fuck, I'm in the wrong room!" His loyal friends freaked out and ran away.
"No, you're in the right place," I whispered. "You just fucked with the wrong guy." I climbed out of bed while maintaining hold of his arm. I flipped on the light over my bed and could see clearly on his face just how much pain he was in, so I let go. His arm fell slack at his side. He rubbed his shoulder and turned around. I got a real kick out of watching his eyes as they caught their first glimpse of my broad chest and my giant arms, then moved up and up until he saw me grinning down at him. I now had a good couple inches on him and, except for the part covered by my exercise pants, all of my new muscle was on prominent display.
He stared stupefied at my face, which basically hadn't changed but looked a shitload more bad-ass on this body. If he hadn't been so drunk, his brain probably would have exploded at seeing the stud his "baby" roommate had become. Instead, he was just really, really confused. He poked his index finger into my firm pecs, like he was trying to make sure they were real. "Didn't you used to be a little pussy?", he asked.
"Yeah, but the campus food plan is awesome. Lotsa protein," I said, continuing to mess with him. "This is only after one week. By next week, I won't fit through the door."
Cole stood dazed in the middle of the room, his eyes glazed over like he had passed out standing up. Just like he had been doing to me, I touched his chest with a finger. He toppled right over and was snoring on the floor within a minute. I couldn't leave the idiot just lying there, so I lifted him up and carried him to his bed. He felt surprisingly light in my bulging arms. I scooted a trash can next to his bed, just in case he needed to hurl during the night.
On my way back to bed, I noticed I had gotten some texts while I was asleep. Dad had written back after seeing the photo of my new body:
"WHOA, buddy. I guess the camera DID work. You might want to scale it back and take things more gradually. Massive changes like that can be hard to adjust to."
That was followed by:
"Oh, and you won't need to buy new clothes. Just use the camera to adjust your old ones into whatever you like. Have fun, son, but don't go overboard. Call me if you need advice."
Despite what Dad thought, I felt like I was handling the changes pretty well, especially since he gave me the thing with no instructions. He always liked to do that, bring home some project from work and ask his geeky little kid if he could figure out what it did. It was a fun father-son bonding type of thing. I'm pretty slick with computers and shit, so it was never much of a challenge, but he'd never given me anything nearly as amazing as this before.
I carried the camera back to bed and stared at the picture of the new me. I didn't even realize at first that I was stroking my cock, queering off to my own picture. When I looked at my dick, it seemed really small in the grip of my new sinewy hand. Seemed like I ought to be able to do something to change that.
I aimed the lens at my semi-hard cock and focused. I'd never taken a dick pic in my life. No one ever wanted to see my dick in the flesh, so who would want a picture of it? I clicked and the rear screen displayed my little friend. I brought up the menu and had to scroll pretty deep through the options before I reached the controls for "GENITALS". The options were "MALE", "FEMALE", "BOTH", "NEITHER" and "NON-HUMAN". Guess those scientists at Dad's company didn't want to leave out any potential customers.
I stuck with "MALE" and discovered the options for "LENGTH - SOFT" and "LENGTH - HARD". I only bumped up the soft length a little, figuring I didn't want fitting my dick into a pair of underwear to become more of a challenge than solving a Rubik's Cube. I can solve a Rubik's Cube in under a minute, by the way. Not bragging, just the truth -- although these big new hands and this lowered intelligence might slow down my speed a little. Then again, considering how long I was making my "LENGTH - HARD", I didn't figure I'd be having too many more Saturday nights sitting alone with nothing to do but fondle my Rubik's Cube. I clicked "ACCEPT", then "SAVE", and flipped off the light. I was amazed how far my hand had to travel up and down the shaft of my cock as it grew to its new full length, and my fingertips didn't even meet my thumb on the other side when I gripped the fucker. Once I finally fired, I coated my chest and abs with more cum than I thought I had in me. Guess everything about me was bigger now.
* * *
In the morning, I woke up full of energy for the first time in my goddamn life. I actually felt like going for a run. On purpose. Not even because it would be good for my body, because obviously I could adjust this body however I wanted without a lick of exercise. No, I just wanted to go for a run because I thought it would be fun.
I pulled on my clothes from the night before, then snapped a selfie in the full length mirror on the back of our door. I musta spent half an hour going through the menus to decide what shirt and shorts and sneakers I wanted the camera to give me. I knew I could get sucked into a video game so deep that ten hours would pass and I wouldn't even get up to take a leak, but I never thought I could be just as addicted to picking out clothes.
Once I chose a white tank top and some red running shorts that looked snug around my package, I checked myself out in the mirror and decided I would look even hotter with curly blond hair. So there went another ten minutes, as I figured out the exact shade and length I wanted. I settled on a nice rich honey color and adjusted my cap so it would fit (backwards, naturally) over my new halo of curls. I looked righteous. I clicked "SAVE" and the changes were locked in.
Cole snorted loudly, still lying on top of his rumpled bedspread, tongue hanging flaccid from his mouth and basically looking like shit. One hand was lazily scratching his belly underneath his beer-stained sleeveless tee and the other was stuffed down his cargo shorts. A naughty thought passed through my head. I snapped a quick photo of him, then tucked the camera in a pocket of my shorts and headed out for a nice long run.
The campus was beautiful that morning, with just a taste of fall chill sneaking into the morning sunshine. I'd never noticed how many people exercised in the morning, maybe because I was usually still in bed at this time. When I looked down, my arms and legs were swinging so fast and powerfully that my shadow was basically just a dark smudge speeding across the sidewalk. As my big feet pounded the pavement in my new Air Jordans, I smiled at all the chicks and guys who were running or walking or riding bikes or doing yoga, and nearly everybody smiled back. And why wouldn't they? They weren't looking at geeky Ryan Bradford any more, with his pencil-thin arms and legs. They were checking out Ryan Bradford, campus stud, whose muscles barely fit in normal clothing. I didn't even feel like the same person any more. A dude like me oughta have a nickname. What would my drinking buddies call me, if I had drinking buddies? Or any buddies? How about Ry? "Hey, I'm Ry," I muttered to myself as I ran. I liked the sound of it. "Yo, this is Ry." I chuckled my deep new chuckle.
It was a thrill to see how many girls were staring at me, but the looks I was getting from guys were kinda freaking me out. Before last night, I found it hard to believe that any girl would be charitable enough to go to bed with me, but I never even considered that a guy might want to do it. I just wrote off all my fantasies about big hunky jocks as envy, not lust. Now, I felt like I could walk into any room on campus and seduce anyone in it. Male, female, both, neither or non-human. (Just kidding about the non-human thing. Gross.)
By the time I reached the lakeside pier, I must have run ten miles but I still wasn't breathing hard. My shirt was soaked with sweat, so I pulled it off, the sunlight glistening on my wet torso. I stretched out my legs on a bench. They seemed to go on forever, like they were longer than my whole body used to be. The lake and the trees looked so scenic, I pulled out my camera and snapped a picture. I checked the editing options, but wasn't given anything unusual. Guess Dad's company hadn't figured out how to make the camera turn a sunrise into a sunset, or a tree into a polar bear. Yet.
I deleted the scenic photo, and the last photo I had taken showed up onscreen: Cole, sprawled in bed. I amused myself thinking about what modifications I would make to the jerk if I could. What was I thinking "if"? I could! Too bad the options wouldn't let me change him from a prick into a decent guy. I could turn him into a GQ model and he'd still think it was hilarious to fart in my face. Then again, if I changed his body enough, maybe it'd change his behavior too. I was definitely acting differently as Ry than I had as Ryan. Maybe Cole could stand to be a little less like Ry and a little more like Ryan.
I brought up the "BODY TYPE" menu, where Cole was a obviously categorized as a "MESOMORPH". I nudged the wheel toward "ECTOMORPH" and watched his muscles wither away until he was practically skeletal, even worse than I had been. Not sure even Cole deserved that big a punishment. I slid the wheel back toward "MESOMORPH" and got so aroused as his muscles grew back that my boner started to strain my shorts. My finger wavered on the dial until I hit a sweet spot where he was just muscly enough to turn me on but still puny enough to have an inferiority complex. His clothes now looked baggy on him, and he looked a couple inches shorter. I clicked "ACCEPT" and chuckled, wondering what must be going through Cole's mind at that moment as the changes took place.
"What's so funny?"
It was a chick's voice. I looked around and saw a girl on the bench across the pier, looking right at me. She was just the kind of girl who always wanted to be my friend in high school. They weren't total space cadets, because they appreciated my less obvious qualities enough to hang out with me, but they were definitely more interested in the football team than the chess club. This one had her red hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore glasses that screamed "I listen to NPR", but her legs were tanned and toned enough that you knew she hadn't spent the entire summer in her attic writing poetry. She was trying not to look like it, but I could tell she was scoping me out.
"Oh, just a picture of my roommate," I said, still surprised every time I heard my new voice. I knew I had knocked down my IQ last night, but I sounded dumber than I felt. "Dumbass passed out drunk last night, so I..." I realized I shouldn't explain any more. "Just did something funny to him is all."
"Ah," she said, smiling mildly and going back to her reading, not interested in hearing some sophomoric "dude" story. I hated that I was still so terrible at conversation, no matter how I looked. I noticed that she was reading a book I had also read over the summer. I could've struck up a conversation about that, but I suddenly realized I couldn't remember what the book was about any more. I didn't want to look too vain in front of her, so I decided to wait until I got back to my room to take another selfie and bump my IQ back up.
I stood up slowly, making sure the chick could get a real eyeful of my body as I stretched. I had no idea if I was stretching right, and based on the way she was smirking, I probably wasn't. I walked over and extended my sweaty hand. "Name's Ry. Hope to see you around."
She declined the handshake, smiled back mildly and said, "Kay," which I assumed was her name but could've been her just saying "'kay" to get rid of me. Still, I'd made first contact.
I jogged back to the dorm, feeling even more energized than before. I felt incredibly horned up from changing Cole's picture and talking to Kay and just the general friction of my shorts against my hard-on. I was ready to take a good long shower and a have a good long wank session when I got back, but when I got to the room, Cole was curled up in his bed, looking ready to shit his pants. His thin but still muscly arms were wrapped around his thin but still muscly legs, and his face had gotten skinnier too. He looked more like a sophomore in high school than a sophomore in college. With a shaky voice that sounded like it had barely escaped puberty, he said, "I think I caught the same thing that you did, only backwards. Look how little I am!"
I played dumb, even dumber than I was feeling. "Holy shit!" I sat down on the bed beside him and furrowed my brow. "I wonder what's causing this."
"I never heard of nothing like this. I tried looking it up on the Internet, but I didn't even know where to start looking. Maybe it's God's revenge for me having so much sex."
I looked down at my body. "So is this my reward for never having any?"
Cole actually laughed, and not in a mean way. I didn't know he could do anything that wasn't in a mean way. He looked so scared and vulnerable. "I wanna go see a doctor."
"I'm sure there's no need for that," I said reassuringly. "I bet you'll be back to normal by tomorrow."
He looked back at me, doubtful. "My buddy Trent dropped by, but all he did was laugh at how I looked and my squeaky-ass voice. You'll help me, won't you?" His big eyes were pleading.
"Sure thing, Cole." He leaned over and wrapped his lithe arms around me. When I hugged back, I could feel my erection lengthening. If Cole held me any closer, he was sure to feel it too. "There, there," I said, trying to pull away from him, but he was clinging to me desperately, making my cock grow even longer. As I squirmed to avoid intimate contact, I noticed the camera sliding out of my pocket and landing on the bedspread, with the adjusted photo of Cole still lit up on the screen. If he saw that, I'd be fucked, and not in the good way. I snatched up the camera and held it behind his back. I rested my chin on his shoulder and patted his back. I could feel his teardrops mixing with the sweat from my run.
Let me say up front that I'm not proud of what I did next. I could blame it on the massive changes my body had gone through, which Dad had said took time to get used to. I could blame it on not having as much brain power as usual. I could blame it on having more testosterone in my system than Lance Armstrong on a bender, reliving old times. I could blame it on feeling Cole's tight little body pressed so close against me. But the truth was, I just desperately needed to get off. So I looked at the photo of Cole and quickly found the menu for "ORIENTATION". Cole's initial setting was, not surprisingly, rock-solid "HETEROSEXUAL" Since my giant cock needed a blow job right fuckin' now, he had to be into it one-hundred percent, so I swung him all the way to "HOMOSEXUAL". I wasn't dicking around. I clicked "ACCEPT", promising to myself that I would switch him back to "HETERO" as soon as I was done.
The change in Cole's behavior was subtle, definitely not as dramatic as if I had made the switch right in the middle of him farting in my face last night. He was already hugging me, but feeling Cole's soft lips kissing my neck was strange. Fantastic, but something I could never have imagined would happen in a million years. He leaned back, his eyes looking a bit mystified, as if they weren't yet as fully with the program as the rest of his body. Then he pushed me back on the bed and climbed out of his oversized shirt, revealing that he still had decent muscle tone and the hints of a six-pack. Instead of the burly bruiser he had been this morning, he now looked like a scrappy high-school wrestler, and he was looking down at me with pure lust. He yanked down on my shorts and we were both amazed to watch my cock rise to a rigid ninety-degree angle. I didn't have a ruler handy, but we were probably looking at ten inches. I had set my max for twelve, so amazingly I still had some room to grow.
Cole looked at it hungrily and bent down, burying his head in my pubic hair, which must have been pretty rank after my long run. "Mmm," he moaned. "Oh, yeah, baby."
For the first time, I didn't mind him calling me "baby".
Cole licked his way up my shaft before working the head and as much of the shaft as possible between his lips. Maybe the camera had implanted some techniques, but he sure seemed to know what he was doing down there. He stuck one hand into his loose cargos and started to stroke himself. He worked my balls and shaft with his other palm while tending to my head orally.
I grabbed the foot of his bed with my hands and braced my feet against the headboard as his attack became more intense. I was getting so big down there that I worried he couldn't handle it, but between his teeth, his lips and his tongue, he kept working me into a frenzy. I tried to keep my moaning down, but the guys in the rooms next to us must have heard the banging of the bed. They'd probably assume it was just Cole and some chick. A chick with a really deep moan. My arms and legs tightened as I braced myself for an orgasm that could be measured on the Richter Scale. Jizz blasted into Cole's mouth and down his throat until the little guy had to pull away or else he would choke to death. He leaned against his headboard as my cock continued to blast his face and chest with hot cream. The pumping gradually slowed until my limp-ish cock flopped onto my abs and we both sagged lifelessly on the bed.
Cole looked shell-shocked. "Sorry, man. Something just came over me."
"Yeah, that was me." I smiled, looking at the glistening puddles on his skin.
He laughed, pushing me playfully with his bare foot, then wriggled out of his shorts, giving me a good look at his erect cock. It was damn impressive, especially on his compact new body. Proportionately, it was probably bigger than mine. He seemed perfectly happy stroking it himself, but I figured I owed the guy now, so I crawled my way toward him. I knew basically what I was supposed to do, although I'm sure my technique was amateurish even for a first-timer. Fortunately, Cole was gentle and helpful. He ran his hands through my curly hair and told me how hot it looked. Then he guided my head onto his cock and talked me through what he wanted each step of the way. He gushed sooner than I expected, sending most of his cum onto my chin and chest, but he looked very satisfied.
As I lay down with my head beside his, I felt something hard beneath me and heard the faint click of the camera. Cole curled up next to me and traced his finger along the contours of my muscles and into my belly button. "That was so 'not me', man. But I dunno, for some reason, it felt so right. Did you like it? Were you satisfied?"
"Yeah, Cole, I had a great time." It was downright cute how vulnerable and considerate Cole had become.
"I know people 'experiment' with sex in college, but I never thought I would," he said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's just temporary. Maybe it'll blow over by tomorrow."
"I'm sure that's it," I told him. With any luck, when I made him straight again, he'd retain some of this kinder attitude and wouldn't be such a giant ass any more.
"So," he said in a sing-song voice, grinning at me, "you wanna fuck my ass?"
He seemed very eager, but my conscience was weighing on me already for turning him temporarily gay. I didn't want to take any more advantage of him than I already had. It was almost like I'd slipped him a technological roofie.
I told Cole I was going to take a shower. Between the cum and the sweat, I had never reeked so badly in my life. My running clothes stank nearly as bad. Once I was cleaned up, I knew I would have to conjure up some fresh clothes with the camera. I stood up, carefully palming the camera in my hand so Cole wouldn't see it, then slipping it into my underwear drawer.
I took a long hot shower, kneading the shampoo into my plentiful curls and realizing I had no idea how to care for a hairdo like this. Then again, maybe once I altered the photo, my hair would just stay like that until I took another photo and changed it again. Sure would've helped if Dad had given me some helpful hints. I wasn't just tinkering with some ordinary product from his company like a virtual-reality system or a 3D printer. Well, actually, in a weird way, this was sort of the ultimate 3D printer. And I definitely felt like I was in a different reality.
With a towel wrapped around my waist, and envious glances directed my way from my neighbors, I strutted back down the hall to my room. When I got there, Cole was gone. I hadn't seen him in the shower room or the bathroom. His oversized clothes were still lying on the bed and the floor where they had landed during our fuck session. Hard to imagine he was running around naked.
As I looked in my own closet for something that even approximately fit me, I noticed that a few items were missing. Nothing special, just a small black tee, some skinny black jeans and purple high-tops, but they all would have easily fit Cole at his new size. Still in my towel, I ran back into the hall and looked for him. I asked around whether anyone had seen Cole. Nobody had. Nobody seemed to have any clue who I was either. I ran back into our room and looked out the window, to see whether Cole was wandering around outside the dorm, but I couldn't spot him.
Fortunately, we had exchanged phone numbers on the first day, before I realized what a tool he was, so I grabbed my cell phone and called him. After the first ring, I noticed Cole's cargos inching slightly across the floor. Another ring, they moved again. I reached down and pulled his phone from the pocket of his discarded shorts.
I figured I'd better undo the camera's effects before he got into a situation he didn't expect. I opened my underwear drawer and was relieved to still find the camera there. If he had discovered it and taken it with him, who knows what could have happened?
I sat down on my bed naked and opened the revised photo of Cole. The word "SAVED" appeared at the bottom. I hadn't remembered saving the image...unless that was the click when I accidentally sat on the camera. I tried to re-open the photo and make further adjustments, but none of the menus would open. Come to think of it, I had never gone back to make additional changes after hitting "SAVE". Finally, a new message came on the display: "TAKE NEW PHOTO TO MAKE MORE CHANGES".
Shit. So I would have to take another picture of Cole before I could change him back? That meant his horny little gay ass was wandering around out there, and it was all my fault.
I tried to fit into some of my old clothes, but everything was far too tight. So, since Cole had borrowed some of my stuff, I figured I could wear some of his. God, he had terrible taste, though. The nicest shirts he had were either football jerseys or camouflage jackets. It took me a minute to remember that it really didn't matter what the clothes looked like to begin with. I could just change them to whatever I wanted. With that, I pulled on a sweatshirt, orange hunting pants, and muddy cowboy boots and took a picture of myself reflected in the mirror. I didn't have time to dawdle getting my wardrobe perfect, so I quickly converted my outfit into a short-sleeved blue button-down, gray wool trousers and black penny loafers. Instead of drying my long curly hair, I just shrank it into a blond buzz cut. And I had the presence of mind to bump my IQ back up. While I was at it, I even gave myself an extra twenty points. I was going to need all the brain power I could get my hands on. I clicked "SAVE".
Now, I asked myself, where would Cole go if he were gay?
I had no inkling where to start my search for my roommate Cole, having selfishly turned him from an abusive nincompoop into a frisky cocksucker just to satisfy my own sexual needs. Despite having boosted my intelligence substantially with the astonishing camera which my father had given me, I had little clue where my transformed roommate might have gone.
Cole's cell phone, which I had retrieved from the pocket of the cargo shorts he left behind, began to vibrate. The screen displayed the name "SHILOH" with an accompanying photo of one of Cole's posse extending his middle finger. Those gentlemen were all class.
I answered the call, stating, "Cole's phone."
The person at the other end laughed. "Uh, yeah, hi, Cole's phone. Is Cole there?"
"No. You're Shiloh, I take it?"
"Yeah, this is Shy. Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck do you have Cole's phone?"
With irritation, I replied, "I the fuck am...a friend of Cole's, and I the fuck have Cole's telephone because he left it behind."
"Where'd he go? Trent said Cole looked mad sick and would probably be in bed all day. I was just checking to see if he's okay."
"He's far from okay. Do you have any ideas about where he might have gone?"
"Shit, I dunno. Let me call the other guys and see if any of them have heard from him. I'll give you a call back."
"Thank you. I'll await your call." I hung up, wondering why I sounded so uptight. Was it because I had raised my IQ that that I was talking like I had a stick lodged up my rectum? "Rectum"? What was with my vocabulary suddenly? For the first time in my life I looked cool and sexy, yet I sounded like an insufferable pedant. It was time for another readjustment. I raised the miraculous camera to take another photo of myself in the full-length mirror. I was becoming ever more proficient at operating the variety of menus and submenus, which I used to nudge my IQ back down to its usual level. Fortunately, my standard level of intelligence was still well above average, just not obnoxiously so. I somewhat reluctantly bade farewell to my heightened intellect with a simple tap of my finger...
...and a rush of relief spread through my body. Being smarter had literally made my brain ache. It felt unnatural. I was glad to feel normal again. Well, at least as normal as I could in my new studly body.
I took a seat, drumming my fingertips on my desktop and waiting for Shiloh to call back. I studied the camera, wondering how it operated. It looked like an ordinary digital camera, but its power to edit not just the photograph but the person in the photograph was phenomenal. It could definitely be misused in the wrong hands, and I wondered if "the wrong hands" included my own, seeing what I had done to Cole. Maybe that was why Dad had given me the camera without any instructions. Maybe he wanted to see what errors in judgment might be made even by someone who he trusted. If I couldn't handle the responsibility of using the camera, imagine the havoc that would be caused by someone with less impulse control, like Cole.
The phone rang, displaying Shiloh's name again. I picked it up. "Shiloh. Any luck?" It was a relief to let words just fall from my lips again without my brain obsessing over proper sentence structure.
"None of the guys have heard from him since Trent dropped by this morning. But I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'm sure he's fine."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"Why not? I mean, who are you anyway?"
"I'm...just a worried friend. Just like you. Can you help me search for him?"
"Sure, I guess, if you're that concerned."
"Where should we meet?"
Shiloh thought for a second. "How 'bout the pier? He might be there, doggin' on chicks."
Given how he was behaving before he left, I doubted that Cole would be "doggin' on chicks", but it was as good a place as any to start. We described what we were wearing so we would recognize each other at the pier. Shiloh said he was wearing a white "wife-beater", blue jeans and a purple baseball cap. Turned backwards, undoubtedly. It was like Cole and his buddies had been issued a bro uniform when they enrolled.
I hurried to the pier as fast as I could, although it had been much easier running there in athletic shoes that morning than in the penny loafers I was wearing now. It was late afternoon and the place was crawling with minimally-dressed students, soaking in what might be the last warm day before autumn took hold. I felt way overdressed and considered sneaking off somewhere to zap myself into something more comfortable, but the truth was I thought I looked damn good. Just because I now had massive guns didn't mean I had to be flashing them constantly.
I saw plenty of guys in white tanks and jeans hanging around, but only one in a purple cap...backwards, as expected. I dimly recognized Shiloh as one of Cole's crew, but he was clearly the runt of the litter. Although he was obviously trying to fit in with his fellow dudes, his efforts were almost too blatant -- not unlike the ways I had tried to make my weedy little body look cooler with tattoos and jewelry. It was hardly surprising that I had almost totally overlooked Shiloh, compared to Cole and his bulkier, hulkier comrades. Shiloh was short and skinny with pale skin, sloping shoulders and wispy chest hair poking out above his tank top. He had a pugnacious but fairly average face, with caterpillar eyebrows, dark eyes, a broad nose, thin lips and a rounded chin covered with scruff.
I walked over with a friendly smile and said, "Shiloh, right?"
"Uh, yeah. The guys call me Shy," he said, sizing me up. Clearly my bulky body was not what he pictured from our phone conversation.
"I'm...uh, my friends call me Ry." Yes, all of my vast circle of non-existent friends. I extended my hand and shook his, realizing too late how hard I was squeezing his thin fingers. "You spotted Cole yet?"
"Nah, I just got here," he said. "Trent said Cole looked really skinny this morning."
"That's right. He might look shorter than usual too."
Shiloh stared at me skeptically. "What the fuck? How does a guy get shorter overnight?" I just shrugged, playing dumb.
As we prowled the pier, I hung a few steps behind Shiloh and couldn't help but fixate on how tightly his jeans fit, with no wallet in his back pockets to interrupt the smooth curve of his butt. I wondered if Dad had known that his camera would make me so sex-obsessed. Was that part of what the beta test was designed to explore? It was starting to feel more like an alpha test.
My attention shifted from Shiloh's ass to a familiar pair of tan legs on a familiar bench. Kay, the girl from that morning, was lying on the same bench, only barefoot now, still reading the new Malcolm Gladwell with his latest theories on how everything works. Shit, I could finally remember the book and what it was about! She and I could have had a genuine conversation about it, if only I weren't in the middle of searching for Cole.
"Hey, it's Kay, right?", I said, looming over her. She peered up, shielding her eyes and slightly confused. "I'm Ry. We talked this morning." It wasn't much of a conversation, but we HAD talked.
"Oh, right," she said as the light of recognition went on. "I see you're wearing clothes now. You got a haircut too!"
"That's right. I did." I brushed my palm across the bristles of my buzz cut. "You like it?"
"I kinda liked the curls," she said with an inscrutable smirk.
I felt like I had disappointed her. "I can always grow them back."
I had zeroed in on Kay so much, I'd almost forgotten Shiloh was beside me, but Shiloh seemed used to being overlooked. "Oh, this is Shiloh. We're looking for a friend of ours we thought might have come to the pier. Since you've been here all day, maybe you noticed him. About yea tall," I said, raising my hand up to my chin level. "Dark wavy hair. Black t-shirt. Black jeans. Purple sneakers."
Kay shook her head. "Sorry, I've been reading. You're probably the only person I noticed all day. Your friend sounds cute, though. Hope you find him." She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
I grinned back and thanked her. I could swear she was flirting, but then everyone I saw today seemed to be turning me on. I might have to go into the camera settings and pick either totally straight or totally gay, just so my libido could ignore half of the world.
As Shiloh and I walked away, I realized I didn't know exactly what to talk about with one of Cole's buddies. Wasn't their conversation mostly about sports and chicks? "That chick was pretty cute, don't you think?", I offered.
Shiloh didn't seem all that impressed. "I suppose. If you're into that type."
We swung by the campus clinic to see if Cole had come by to get checked out, but the receptionist didn't remember anyone of his description. We didn't find Cole in any of his other usual hangouts either, and it seemed increasingly unlikely that we would simply run into him by wandering the sprawling campus randomly. My big-ass body was starving, so we stopped in a Mexican restaurant and strategized. As I watched Shiloh stuffing a burrito into his mouth, for some reason it reminded me of Cole giving me a blowjob this morning. I realized I had to level with Shiloh about how much his buddy had changed.
"I think you should know. What happened to Cole, I don't think it just changed him physically."
"What do you mean?", Shiloh asked, chomping down another bite.
"I think he's behaving differently too. Last time I saw him, he was acting...pretty damn gay."
Shiloh burst into a laugh that sprayed rice and beans into my face. He looked embarrassed, reaching over with a napkin to wipe me clean.
"Sorry about that. I just find it hard to believe that Cole would be gay."
"Maybe he's been in denial." Or maybe a magical camera turned him gay. Nah, too crazy. "Is there, like, a gay part of town where he might have gone?"
"Over on Sixteenth Street. Some people call it Sixty-Nine Street." He added, "So I hear."
"Maybe we should head over there and look around."
Shiloh looked dubious. "You and me walking Sixty-Nine? People will think we're a couple."
Would that be so terrible, even if he was a bit puny for my tastes? Funny how I'd suddenly developed standards and thought I could afford to be choosy.
"Cole might not come with me," I said, "but he might listen to you. You're his friend."
"Aren't you his friend too?"
Let's see. Cole had abused me from the moment we became roommates. Then this morning I turned him into a little gay boy without his permission. "I'd say we're more like acquaintances." Shiloh was skeptical of my theory but agreed to continue the search.
Judging from the rainbow flags and other obvious signs, it appeared that the core of 69 Street was barely a block long. Shiloh seemed nervous to be around the neighborhood, but I was enjoying the sensation of guys ogling me with no hesitation. I unbuttoned a couple extra buttons on my shirt to display my pumped pecs.
Despite the aura of cool I was hoping to project, I was pretty embarrassed when we went into one sex-toy shop, and Cole was blushing so hard, his skin almost matched the purple of his cap. The place still had those coin-operated porno viewing booths that I had heard about -- I guess for the last remaining pervs on earth without internet access. I wasn't about to knock on the doors to find out if Cole was using one of them. On the off chance that he was, I decided I wouldn't be asking for my purple sneakers back. Not seeing Cole prowling the aisles, we got out of there fast.
As we stepped outside, Shiloh literally collided with a pedestrian, sending them both reeling in opposite directions across the sidewalk.
"Watch your step, honey," the pedestrian said with annoyance. I instantly recognized the voice from this morning.
Shiloh stared with fascination at the other guy. "Cole? Is that really you?" Shiloh's confusion was justifiable. With its turned-up nose and pillowy lips, Cole's face had already been changed by the transformation, but Cole had been a busy boy refining his look since then. He was still wearing my purple shoes but at some point he had ditched my black tee and jeans and was now wearing a white fishnet tee that exposed his abs and low-slung lime-green shorts. He had obviously spent some time in a salon too, as his nails were now black and his hair sported a magenta streak that matched his eye shadow. I may have turned Cole gay, but I took no responsibility for his fashion sense.
Cole rushed over and hugged Shiloh. "Shy, baby! I'm so happy to see you!" Shiloh patted Cole's back, his eyes registering amazement, while Cole showed now hesitation as he groped Shiloh's cute butt. When they parted, Cole's attention shifted to me. His eyes roved my body and a smirk crossed his lips. "Oooh, and I remember you, big boy." He slinked over to me and pressed his lips on mine. I couldn't resist kissing back, and the intensity of Cole's passion was possibly even greater than it had been earlier in the day. Our public display of affection was so public that I could hear guys on the street whistling or clapping or yelling "Get a room." When we parted, I noticed Shiloh's dumbstruck stare. I looked back, doing my best non-verbal "I told you so."
"What are you boys doing in this neighborhood?", Cole asked.
"We came to take you home," Shiloh said.
"Why would I go home? I'm having a blast, honey. I've never felt so happy."
"But this isn't you!", Shiloh insisted.
"I know. It's better, baby. You should try it sometime." Cole winked at me before his eyes drifted to a large hairy biker dude in leather pants walking past. Cole's head pivoted to keep an eye on the big guy and, as he set off in pursuit, he called back, "See you later, boys."
Shiloh watched as Cole chased after the brutish guy and struck up a conversation. Shiloh turned to me and said, "I think you better tell me what's really going on here...baby."
I froze, knowing that I'd been found out.
"You are Cole's little roommate Ryan, right, Ry? The one he teased so much and called 'Baby'?"
I nodded. Shiloh studied me. "Unbelievable. You look...totally different. So whatever changed Cole is probably the same thing that changed you, right? What is it you're not telling me?"
I was pretty sure I was going to need Shiloh on my side to wrangle Cole if I had any chance of converting him back, so I pulled Shiloh in between two buildings where we wouldn't be overheard. "What I'm gonna tell you will sound nuts, but it's true. Can I trust you to keep a secret?"
Shiloh nodded. As I looked in his eyes, he seemed to have an inherent honesty and integrity, which made me wonder again why he ever hung out with Cole and his buds. Still, I felt I could trust him. Without divulging any more details than were absolutely necessary, I showed him the camera and described how it could be used to essentially Photoshop someone so that their body changed in real life.
"How does it work?", he asked.
"I have no fucking clue," I said with complete honesty. I figured a demonstration would be the best proof I could offer, so I pulled up the last photo I had taken of myself and showed him the various menus. Since I had never saved the photo, it was still editable, so I decided to alter my clothing, looking around to make sure no one was watching.
I quickly chose a wardrobe that might be more appropriate for this neighborhood. Shiloh watched in amazement as, one by one, I "tried on" new clothes on the camera screen which then appeared on my actual body with a simple click of the "ACCEPT" button. Within a minute, I went from my conservative outfit to an orange sleeveless tee, a pair of ripped-knee jeans and rhinestone-studded All-Stars. While I was at it, I decided to give myself a new tattoo, opting for a Maori design for my chest and upper arm. I felt a concentrated barrage of needle pricks as the pattern emerged across my skin. I even selected "JEWELRY" and added seven silver hoops to the upper edge of my right ear, gritting my teeth as the pain of seven piercings was condensed simultaneously into the space of five seconds, then quickly fading away. When the transformation was complete, I extended my arms to my sides and said, "Ta-da!" Shiloh gaped in awe.
"Satisfied? Now let's go get Cole and turn him back."
As I turned back toward the sidewalk, I heard Shiloh behind me.
"Do me."
I looked back, knowing that I should resist, knowing that I didn't need this situation to get any more complicated than it already was.
"Do me. Please?" I could see a familiar longing in his eyes, the same desperation to be noticed that I'd carried within me for so long. Silently apologizing to my dad, I walked back between the buildings and asked Cole to pose against the wall. I snapped a shot.
I studied his photo, my mind racing at the possibilities. "So what do you want me to change?"
"Anything. Everything. Just make me look cool. Like you."
The idea of me being the epitome of cool was absurd, but I dove eagerly into the task of reshaping wanna-be bro Shiloh into a hottie.
"This first one's gonna hurt, but you'll thank me." I slid him from "ECTOMORPH" to "MESOMORPH" to put some meat on his scrawny bones. As I hit "ACCEPT", the changes began. He seemed remarkably unperturbed by the pain I knew he must be experiencing, but he seemed utterly distracted by the awesome sight of his muscles and skeletal system growing at lightning speed. I frantically bumped up the size of his clothes before his muscles had a chance to burst through them. Since he had left the aesthetic choices to me, I tanned his pale skin and whisked away the thatch of hair on his chest. Shiloh would be a metrosexual if I had anything to do with it, and I actually had everything to do with it.
Flexing his reshaped right arm while rubbing his left hand across his newly smooth pecs, Shiloh looked over at me and smiled, our eyes now at the same height. "More" was all he said. His eyes looked dark and impenetrable, so I adjusted them to a lighter shade, giving them a seductive sparkle.
I knew the next thing that had to go was that stupid baseball cap, but rather than simply asking him to remove it, I chose "HEADGEAR", then "NONE". The best way to de-bro him was to take away his options. I clicked "ACCEPT" and the cap vanished from Shiloh's head, dematerializing until it revealed Shiloh's greasy mop of stringy brown hair.
I decided he would look much better as a blond with highlighted streaks. "Ow, it's vibrating," Shiloh said, clutching at his hair as a month of growth was crammed into under a minute and his dark locks lightened as if he had spent all summer at the beach.
My options seemed endless. I thinned his eyebrows and streamlined his nose. I pumped up his lips and gave him a more pointed, manly chin. Unlike Cole, who I had modified with revenge in mind, I realized I was reworking Shiloh with the secret goal of turning him into the hottest eye candy I could imagine. Now, as the final pieces shifted into place, the growing feeling in my heart -- and my jeans -- told me that I had succeeded. I had created my ideal man.
Too bad he was straight.
But, wait, how did I know he was? He acted straight, but... While Shiloh was occupied checking out his new body, pulling up his white tank to examine his new abs, I surreptitiously pulled up the "ORIENTATION" menu. Just as it had told me I was bisexual and Cole was initially straight, the camera had determined that Shiloh was most definitely "HOMOSEXUAL". How the hell could a machine figure that out, just by taking a picture, when I couldn't tell from spending time with the guy? It was one of about eight-million questions I would be asking my dad once this whole adventure was over. At the moment, I was just psyched to realize that I had a chance with this golden hottie. It'd be my cosmic bad luck if I had the power to whip up my dream man only to discover that he had no interest in me.
"What do you think?" I gestured to his new body.
"It's a miracle," he said, grasping at his throat when he heard the resonance his voice had gained in the transformation.
"Just so you know, I didn't do anything to cause this, but the camera indicates that...you're gay?"
He hesitated before nodding.
"Do Cole and the other guys know?"
He shook his head. "Those guys? You can imagine how they'd have reacted."
"Then why did you hang out with them?"
"I dunno. It was better than being alone. Maybe I hoped a little of their macho would rub off on me. Plus...I think I had a little crush on Cole."
My jaw fell. "Do you still?"
Shiloh smiled. "Not so much after what you did to him. I like my guys..." He looked me up and down. "...big." He smiled and walked back to the sidewalk.
We entered a clothing store so Shiloh could inspect himself thoroughly in a mirror. "Oh my god," he said with a hushed voice. "That's really me?" As if still in disbelief, he raised his arm to flex his biceps and was amazed to see his reflection doing the same. He smiled into the mirror, revealing a set of perfect teeth that made me swoon. He turned to me with moist eyes, then wrapped me in his powerful arms and kissed me. Mmm, the camera had done a great job on his lips.
God, I loved technology.
Shiloh walked out of the store with supreme confidence, his arm wrapped around my waist. We looked up and down the street for Cole until Shiloh finally spotted him. "Cole just went into the Manhole!"
"He fell down a manhole?"
"No, the Manhole. The club over there. He was still with the big hairy guy." Shiloh pointed down the street.
"Great. We'll wait outside until they throw him out and then grab him."
"Why would they throw him out?"
"Because he's not 21. In fact, right now he looks about fourteen."
"The Manhole is eighteen-plus most nights. If you want to drink, you have to wear a wristband."
"You sure seem to know a lot about this place," I said teasingly.
Embarrassed, Shiloh said, "I thought about going there a lot last year, but I always chickened out before I got to the door."
"You think you're ready now?"
He grinned back, cocky as shit, and said, "The question is, is it ready for me?" As he marched down the street, I held myself back a few steps, pleased with how breathtakingly his new ass filled out his bigger jeans. I could follow that butt anywhere.
When we reached the bouncer at the Manhole, I showed my ID, relieved that I hadn't changed my face much. He must have wondered how I grew so much from the height and weight listed on the driver's license, if he bothered to check that at all, but he waved me along. Shiloh, who now looked nothing like he had ten minutes ago, just said that he'd forgotten his ID. Before the bouncer could deny him entry, a firm voice emerged from inside the front door, saying, "You are NOT turning away a boy who looks that fine." The bouncer stepped aside and let Shiloh enter.
The owner of that mystery voice was a slim young guy with either a very wide mohawk or a very severe sidewall. He asked for ten dollars each. "I guess that's the Manhole cover," I joked. From his expression, I was not the first person ever to make that joke.
The muffled booms of bass speakers vibrated the walls as we headed to the dance floor. It was tremendously loud inside the club. Amid the swirling, colored lights were probably two hundred guys, some coupled up, others playing the field. I followed Shiloh, noticing how many guys were leering at him or copping casual feels and wondering if I had done too good a job. If I wanted to keep him for myself, I might have to go back in and ugly him up a little.
Shiloh looked exhilarated and overwhelmed to be in the middle of the crowd. I no longer needed a high-tech gizmo to determine this boy's orientation. I could tell from the delighted expression on his face.
I ran my palms across Shiloh's sturdy shoulder muscles and down his arms, my thumbs following the lines of his biceps veins and over his forearms. We began to move in sync with the music, and I was pleased to see him devoting his full attention to me, despite the massive attention he was getting from others. As I pressed myself against him, I could tell from the lump in his jeans that I wouldn't be needing to make any alterations down there. Our eyes met and the next move was obvious.
I took his hand and led him into the men's room where we found an empty stall. We must have looked absurd, two total studs who were utterly clueless about what to do next. All I knew was I needed him and he looked like he wanted me. I unbuttoned my 501s and pulled out my foot-long cock, which Shiloh studied with amazement. He knelt down, ready to latch his lips around it, but I needed more than a blowjob this time. I spun him around and positioned his hands against the tile wall, then reached around to slide his skintight pants down his legs. Man, did he have a magnificent ass. As I gently probed my way inside, Shiloh started to moan. I rested my chin on his shoulder as my hips gyrated, pushing further into him while my left hand stroked his growing cock. Even in here, the din of the club nearly drowned out our voices, although I doubt anyone would complain if they heard what we were doing.
I went faster and faster, pressing my face against his back, my nose buried between his shoulder blades as his tank became soaked with his sweat. He reached his sinewy arms behind his shoulders and pulled off the tank top. I licked his salty skin and felt euphoric as my cock spurted inside his tight ass. Shiloh pounded his mighty fist against the wall while screaming with pleasure as his cock surged in my hand. He joined in the stroking until he began to spurt onto the wall.
When we had both settled down, Shiloh turned to kiss me and I got my first clear look at his sculpted chest and abs. I must say, we looked pretty damn good for a couple of wimps.
Someone knocked urgently on the door of the stall. "How long you gonna be in there?" Not wanting to hold up someone in desperate need, we quickly pulled up our pants and opened the door. The guy rushed in, followed momentarily by a friend.
Shiloh stuffed his tank into the back pocket of his jeans, returning to the dance floor topless. I took his hand and we resumed dancing. Somehow, amid the mob of faces and gyrating bodies, obscured by dry-ice fog and epilepsy-triggering strobes, I finally spotted Cole on the balcony, going into overtime playing tonsil-hockey with the big hairy guy. Shiloh and I squeezed through the crowd and worked our way up to the balcony. Shiloh tapped on the hairy man's shoulder. "I need to talk to my friend."
The hairy guy must have had a hundred pounds on Shiloh. "Fuck off," he demanded, pushing a finger firmly into Shiloh's sculpted chest, but Shiloh stood firm.
Shiloh turned to Cole and asked, "Cole, is this guy bothering you?"
Cole was staring at Shiloh, puzzled. "Do I know you?"
"It's me, Shiloh."
Cole's eyes widened. "Shy?" He literally drooled at the sight of his buddy's new body.
"That's right," Shiloh said. "And this time, we're not asking, we're telling. We're taking you home."
Cole looked conflicted, but the large man blocked the path between Shiloh and Cole. "I think you're wrong, pal. I'M taking him home."
Shiloh tried to push the big guy aside to grab Cole, but the hairy guy punched Shiloh hard in the face. Shiloh fell to the floor, clutching his nose. When I stepped forward, the hairy guy turned his attention to me. "You gonna be as stupid as your friend there?" Big as I was, I couldn't envision winning a fight with this guy, so I backed off. The hairy guy wrapped his huge mitt around Cole's fragile wrist and started dragging Cole toward the exit. Cole looked back at us with fear in his eyes.
I knelt down to check on Shiloh. "You okay?"
He pulled his hand away and discovered his palm covered with blood from his nose. But he was undeterred. "Can that camera make us big enough to beat that motherfucker?"
We ran into the bathroom, the only place in the club well lit enough to take a decent photo of the two of us. Then we ran out the front door, catching a glimpse of Cole being dragged around the corner by his new "friend". Shiloh and I ran down the sidewalk as fast as we could, while I simultaneously attempted to navigate the menus on the camera and change us before we lost track of Cole. With each pounding step on the pavement, the camera was jostled in my hand.
I knew we were going to need bulk if we had any shot at wresting Cole away from his captor, so I chose the "BODY TYPE" menu and slid the dial way past "MESOMORPH" into "BEAST" and then "BEHEMOTH" mode. Feeling it would give us our best chance, I chose "BEHEMOTH", then "ACCEPT". An incredible rush of power swept through my body. My muscles grew two, maybe three times their already impressive size. My powerful legs slammed so heavily against the sidewalk, I could swear the cement was cracking under my weight. I looked ahead of me and realized Shiloh was undergoing the same transformation. It hadn't occurred to me, when taking one photo that included both of us, that any changes I made to the photo would affect Shiloh and me identically.
I quickly changed our pants to black bicycle shorts, so they would stretch as our bodies enlarged. With a massive change like this, the rest of our clothes were goners, shredding on the fly and leaving a trail of tattered fabric behind us. I lagged behind Shiloh and could see his back and shoulders widening to inhuman size and his blond hair streaming like a mane behind him.
Up ahead, the hairy guy had heard and undoubtedly felt our approaching footsteps. He now had Cole slung over his shoulder and was running toward a battered pickup truck. He flung Cole hard into the bed of the truck, seemingly unconcerned for the safety of his prey but determined to keep him away from us. He climbed into the driver's seat and revved his engine.
Shiloh reached the truck before I did, grabbed the driver's side door and tore it completely off its hinges. Shiloh yanked the big guy out of the truck and tossed him into the street. Shiloh was reaching for Cole's hand when I noticed something that had escaped Shiloh's attention.
"He's got a gun!"
The driver had dragged a shotgun out of the cab of the truck with him, which he was loading quickly. Shiloh turned back to him with fury, chasing him down the street. He took the hairy guy's shoulder in one mighty paw while snatching away the shotgun with the other. Shiloh smashed the gun over his enormous knee and flung the remains over a nearby chain-link fence. The skinny kid I had only met hours before was now an unstoppable fighting machine. Even with similar size, I was nowhere near as fearless as Shiloh. Shiloh held the squirming man in his grip, then raised his humongous fist overhead, prepared to strike. I feared that a single blow from Shiloh could kill the man, so I screamed, "Stop!"
I ran up and instructed Shiloh to make the big hairy guy stand in the glare of the headlights so I could take his photo. Shiloh smiled, seeing what I was up to, and tossed the hairy guy into the road where the lights illuminated him. Within moments, I had reduced our opponent to a five-foot-three ectomorph with a smooth hairless body. He stared with panic at the whittled-down specimen he had suddenly become.
"I'll get you motherfuckers," he squeaked, running to the passenger side of his truck, leaping his skinny body through the open window and climbing into the driver's seat. He squealed down the road, with Cole hanging on desperately as he was flung around the truck bed.
Shiloh chased after the truck on foot, until the truck spun a U-turn mid-block and came racing directly toward him. I ran onto the sidewalk and braced myself, but the truck remained in pursuit of Shiloh, who narrowly escaped by ducking between two parked cars. The truck smashed into the cars, shattering its windshield. I could see Cole attempting to jump free but he fell back into the truck bed as the driver shifted into reverse and sped off.
Shiloh gingerly lowered his bulk to the sidewalk beside me, his long blond hair falling in a sweat-drenched curtain past his eyes. We were both exhausted. In the middle of everything, we barely had a moment to appreciate just how radically our bodies had changed. We must be hovering near seven feet now and well over 400 pounds, most of it muscle.
"When I said I liked guys who were big, I never meant this big," said Shiloh in a voice so deep, I could hear it rattling nearby windows.
"Sorry, man," I said, my voice even deeper than his. "I didn't have time for subtlety."
"What do you say we change back and let the police handle it from here?", Shiloh asked.
"Sounds like a plan," I said. I pushed myself to my feet, then extended my brawny arm to help my fellow hulk stand. The commotion had naturally drawn crowds out of the clubs of 69 Street to see what was happening, and our huge musclebound bodies were naturally attracting a lot of attention.
I suddenly had the realization that I was no longer holding the camera in my hand. "Shit, I don't have the camera!"
"Did you drop it somewhere?", Shiloh asked. I shrugged my massive shoulders and stepped as gingerly as possible into the street. Shiloh joined me in my quest.
"I sure hope that asshole didn't run over it with his truck," Shiloh said. "I would not want to be stuck like..."
I heard a crunch and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Shiloh was looking scared. He lifted up a gigantic foot, revealing the crushed remains of the miracle camera embedded in the asphalt.
In unison, we said, "Oh, fuck."
Shiloh and I stood in the dimly lit street, our astounding bodies each seven feet tall and bursting with more muscle than I'd ever seen on a human being -- if that's even what we were any more. Our shoulders and biceps were bigger than beach balls and solid as steel. Our lats flared out so dramatically that neither of us could lower our arms fully to our sides. A street light behind us showed off our musculature in sharp relief and cast long brutish shadows along the pavement. I was glad I'd had the presence of mind to switch us into stretch pants when our bodies became so gargantuan, so at least we weren't naked.
Guys had run outside the Manhole and the other gay establishments of 69 Street once people heard the sounds of our frenetic battle with the guy who had taken Cole away with him. Everyone was keeping their distance from the two silhouetted giants in the middle of the road, but every-goddamn-body had a camera on their cell phone and was taking pictures and videos of us like two sasquatches who had just landed in the gay-borhood.
Ironically, Shiloh and I were the only ones who didn't have a camera, and we were the ones who really could have used one, since it was my magical camera that had gotten us into this mess. Too bad Shiloh had accidentally stepped on it, his enormous weight grinding it into irreparable bits.
I was surprised that I had maintained my composure and most of my wits. Shiloh was more riled up, having been in the heat of the battle with Cole's abductor, smashing the guy's shotgun and tearing the driver's side door off his pick-up truck. Shiloh was still wired with adrenaline and ran angrily toward the crowd with a menacing roar that echoed off the buildings. Everyone scurried back in fear, and I clamped one of my meaty paws on Shiloh's traps, dragging him back toward me. I spoke as softly as I could, even though it felt like everything I said in this new body was being bellowed through a megaphone. "Chill, Hulk. You don't have to 'smash'."
Shiloh, still glaring furiously at the mob armed with their smartphones, asked, "Well, what do you suggest we do?"
"We maybe got a minute before the cops show. I say we run as fast as these big-ass legs will carry us."
"Where to?"
"Someplace we won't be noticed."
"Oh, that oughta be easy to find", Shiloh snorted sarcastically and it came out like a lion's roar. That gave me an idea.
"Follow me." I spun on my heel and began to run away from the crowd.
I could hear from the pounding at my heels that Shiloh was right behind me and that some of the crowd were attempting to keep up. Fat chance of that. Despite my bulk, I felt just as agile as I had earlier in the day when I weighed half as much. I'd never felt so exhilarated as I bounded at ten feet per stride, my muscles like coiled springs.
I tried to keep us in dimly lit areas, under railroad bridges, in industrial areas where no one was working at this time of night, but I'm sure that the pounding of our feet alone made our presence obvious to anyone within several blocks. Maybe one sprinting muscle beast could slip by unnoticed, but two would definitely catch your attention. One unlucky driver must have gotten the scare of his life as he turned down the street toward us. He slammed on his brakes as fast as he could, and I miraculously hurdled his car. Shiloh leapt over the car too, but his heel clipped the rear bumper, knocking it clean off. Shiloh paused to look back, but I yelled for him to keep going. The sooner we vanished, the less likely the driver was to know what hit him. I did take one short cut over a parked car where I left a giant foot-shaped dent in the hood of the trunk. If you parked anywhere in the neighborhood of Sixteenth Street that night, I sincerely apologize.
When we finally reached our destination, we had to scale a fifteen-foot concrete wall with barbed wire at the top. Leaping to the top was simple with our new muscles, and the barbed wire left little more than surface scratches on our thick hides. After being such a little dweeb all my life, it was extraordinary to experience life as an almost purely physical being. I felt practically indestructible. We slid down the other side of the wall and landed in a scummy, stagnant water pool. We had become so animalistic in our behavior by that point that we felt refreshed, splashing ourselves and each other playfully, joyfully. We even cupped water in our hands to slurp it up and rehydrate after our marathon run. At that point, we both came to our senses and spat out the putrid stuff.
Shiloh looked around. "What is this, a zoo?" I grunted affirmatively. "So we're in a cage with wild animals?" He scanned his surroundings with fear, moonlight catching in his eyeballs.
"There are no animals. It closed down a couple years ago. My folks used to bring me here when I was little. Never thought I'd be on this side of the cage." I lay down on the cement where apes used to prowl, feeling my gigantic ribcage expanding and contracting as I caught my breath. Shiloh prowled our new habitat, on alert for anyone or anything approaching. He began to swing swiftly on a rusted old set of bars that had been installed for the apes to play on.
Part of me was already making plans for what Shiloh and I could do with bodies like these. Obviously, we would be the center of attention wherever we went. We could probably go into football, pro wrestling, acting, modeling. I didn't think they'd let us into bodybuilding with the head start Dad's camera had provided. Then again, once Dad's camera went on the market, body building the old way would probably become obsolete. As would dieting. And plastic surgery. And shopping for clothes. And visiting the barber. This one little gadget might drive half the companies in America out of business. Dad and his colleagues were in line to become the richest people on earth, or the most hated, or most likely both.
As I rested a hand on my thigh, I noticed something tiny and hard caught in my skintight pants. My cell phone! Even when I transformed our pants into running shorts, eliminating pockets, the phone in my front pocket had survived the change and was pressed firmly against my flesh. I gently pulled down the shorts and carefully extracted the phone, which now felt so tiny in my oversized palm that I was afraid I would crush it. If I'd had to dial individual digits with the bratwursts my fingers had become, I'd have been shit out of luck, but fortunately the person I needed was on speed dial. As the phone began to ring, I raised it to my ear.
"Hey, big guy, what's shaking?" came the comforting voice of my dad on the other end of the line.
"Why, what have you heard?" was my response, coming out in my laughably low new voice.
"Holy cow, Ryan, is that you?"
"Yeah, Dad. I need your help."
Sternly, Dad asked, "Have you been using the camera some more?"
"A little." I could probably lift a semi with my bare hands right then, but Dad's disappointed tone instantly transformed me mentally into an eight-year-old afraid to admit that he had knocked a baseball through the neighbor's window.
"I warned you to take it easy with that thing. But don't worry, if you've pushed yourself too far, there's a quick fix that'll reset you right back to normal. You got the camera with you?"
"Ummm...that's part of the problem. The camera got kinda...crushed."
A long pause from Dad's end. "How 'kinda' crushed?"
"Like oblivion crushed."
Dad let out a world-record sigh. I waited for him to say something, anything.
"You still there, Dad?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just trying to get a fix on your coordinates. Looks like you're at the old zoo, right?"
"Right. How'd you know that?"
"When the camera transformed you, it put radioactive tracers in your body. I'm seeing another big blip. Is someone else with you?"
"Yeah, my friend, Shiloh." My delight at being able to tell my dad that I had made a friend at college was tempered by the knowledge of what I had turned that friend into. He was currently atop the monkey bars, pounding his chest like Tarzan and yowling at the moon. I shushed him, not wanting to draw any attention to our hideout.
"Okay, hang on, buddy. I'll be right there," Dad said.
"Thanks, Dad. Hurry." I could hear distant sirens and couldn't imagine that Dad could drive here before we'd be discovered by the cops.
I was walking toward Shiloh to give him the good news that Dad was on his way when I saw a weird glow over the water pool. The air above the ground seemed to be thickening and pulsating, reminding me of my initial transformation when the camera sucked me through space to another location via some gelatinous portal. Sure enough, I saw the outlines of Dad's shape emerging inside the glow. As he stepped his way through the ethereal goo, he became aware that he had beamed in at ground level, while the ground beneath him was actually several feet lower. He plunged into the stagnant water of the apes' drinking hole.
I rushed over to grab him as he scrambled out of the water, carefully holding his camera aloft so it would not get wet. I reached out and wrapped my fingers completely around his forearm. He seemed unprepared for just how monumental I had become.
"Oh my, Ryan. What have you done to yourself?"
"I just wanted to put on some muscle. Things got out of hand."
"Nice understatement, son. I know how sensitive you are about your size. I thought you'd use the camera to give yourself a few minor adjustments so you'd fit in better with the other college kids. But this, son, this is not fitting in."
"I know I screwed up, Dad, jeez. Why do you think I called you?" I must have been the whiniest gigantic muscleman in the history of gigantic musclemen.
Dad dropped the lecturing tone. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I'm glad you called me." He noticed Shiloh, who was hanging on the monkey bars. "And you must be Shiloh. I'm Ryan's dad. Nice to meet you." Shiloh dropped down and ran toward us, slumping forward and practically running on all fours.
Dad looked around the spooky old zoo. "Well, one thing in our favor. At least you came to a nice isolated place to experiment where no one could see you." The silence from Shiloh and me must have been pretty obvious, as were the sirens in the distance which were growing louder. Dad looked up at me wearily. "People saw you, didn't they?"
Shiloh and I nodded like bad little boys. I had to tell Dad, "We're probably on YouTube by now."
"Fuck!", Dad yelled. I think I'd only heard him drop the F-bomb twice before in my life and never with such well-deserved ferocity. "If my company learns that I gave my son an untested prototype and that he turned himself and his buddy into monsters..."
"We are not monsters!", Shiloh shouted, his words bouncing off the concrete walls as he shook a cinder-block-sized fist at Dad. I ran behind Shiloh and grabbed his arms to keep him from attacking Dad.
"Well, you won't be in a minute," Dad said, raising his camera. It looked slightly different from the one I'd been given, bulkier with extra modifications, like a newer model that had been jerry-rigged in the lab. Dad quickly took a flash photo of Shiloh and me and started to manipulate the menus. I hovered over his shoulder -- high above his shoulder -- and watched how masterfully he worked the controls. I thought I had been getting the hang of it, but Dad had clearly been fiddling with this device for months or maybe even years.
"If you have a picture of two people, the command affects both of them," I told Dad, offering one of my hard-learned lessons as if he might not already been aware of it, even though he was probably the person who had designed it to work that way.
"That's right, son, but there's an easy override for that. What I'm trying to do is trickier. I want to set you both back to the way you started, which would be MUCH easier if I was working from the camera that made the changes in the first place." Nice way to rub it in, Dad. I already apologized for that.
"Do you have to change us back?", Shiloh asked. "I feel kinda awesome like this." He flexed an arm and admired his massive biceps pump.
"You're caught up in the endorphin rush, but it'll fade soon. You've expanded your body parts to inhuman proportions, way beyond the size at which they were designed to function. Your heart, your lungs, your brain, they're all straining to support what you've become. If you stay like this, you'll be dead in two days."
"Okay, you can change us back," Shiloh said, all menace and bravado immediately gone from his voice.
"Ah, there it is!", Dad screamed. "I connected back to the lab. All your settings were stored back there every time you used the camera, so I can revert you to your original states. You better brace yourselves. It's going to be quite a shock to be yourselves again."
Shiloh and I walked over to the monkey bars and gripped them tightly. Dad gave us no warning that the process was already in motion. It felt like I was being crushed by a black hole, becoming smaller and denser at such a speed that I worried it might keep going until I was reduced to nothingness. The metal bar in my hand seemed to be getting bigger when it was really my hands growing smaller around it. It was a relief when my extreme hyper-inflated muscles were gone, but I genuinely felt comfortable when I had reached the size of the miniature weightlifter of my initial transformation. I felt like yelling to Dad to stop the shrinkage right there, but I was going all the way back to my frail "baby" weight. I felt so distanced from that version of me after all that had occurred, it was hard to believe that I had only been Big Ry for the past twenty-four hours.
When I could feel the process coming to an end, my hands slipped from the metal bars, my knees buckled and I fell to the concrete, whacking my head and discovering that pain was once again a factor in my life. I looked blearily across the way and saw Shiloh coming to grips with being ordinary again too. All the "improvements" which I had made to him were gone. Shiloh was no longer the blond sex god of my dreams. He was just a regular guy trying to look tougher than he was. We were each wearing the jeans that had worn before our first transformations, but the rest of our clothes were missing, since whatever they had been changed into by the camera was shredded when we grew to behemoths. Interestingly, Shiloh's backwards baseball cap had returned from the oblivion where I sent it, having been stored in memory back at the lab.
My ears had been ringing throughout the shrinking process, but I could now distinctly hear the sirens closing in. In another minute, we would be discovered trespassing at the zoo and we'd have a lot of fast talking to do. Dad hustled over and gathered Shiloh and me close together, holding out his arm to snap a selfie of the three of us. As soon as the flash went off, we could hear voices outside the wall as cops noticed the burst of light.
"I've never transported three people at once, but it SHOULD work," Dad informed us. "We would have overwhelmed the system's capacity if you were still the size of human tanks, but we shouldn't have much trouble with you kids." Shit, I was back to being a kid.
I can't speak for Shiloh, but my heart was racing with fear that we were going to get caught. Dad seemed unworried and unhurried. He pulled up the "BACKGROUND" menu -- something I'd forgotten about since last night -- and input very specific latitude, longitude and elevation coordinates, an option that hadn't been included on the model Dad had given me. The screen previewed the three of us against a plain white wall instead of the murky background of the zoo. Dad pressed "ACCEPT" and wrapped his arms around Shiloh and me. I realized too late that I'd better warn Shiloh what he was in for.
"Shiloh, it's gonna feel like..."
By the time I could say, "...squeezing through Jell-O," we had already made the freaky transit through space and were standing in an all-white room that I recognized as one of the labs at Dad's company.
Shiloh was reeling. He braced himself against a counter top to keep from falling and turned to Dad, wide-eyed. Of all the shit he had seen and experienced today, this teleportation had blown his mind the most. "How did you do that?"
"Simple. The hydrogen componolizer interacted with the dichlorium atoms in your duodenum, generating a paradoxical flux which reverberated against the polonium-synchronized geographical wave spectro-analyzer and creating a temporal parahelion dispersion of point-two-seven."
Shiloh stared at Dad, in awe. I laughed and said, "That was just a bunch of nonsense, Dad."
Dad smiled. "Yeah, but if I'd said, 'It's magic,' you wouldn't have believed me."
And with that, he walked purposefully toward a computer work station, where several other working models of the camera were charging.
Shiloh and I stared at each other. In the course of one day, we had been hunks together and hulks together, but now we were face to face as our real selves. Two skinny guys, same height, same weight, with more in common than we would have assumed that morning.
"Almost forgot what you looked like," Shiloh said. "I dunno why Cole made so much fun of you. You're a cute guy."
Even in the dim light of the lab, I'm sure it was obvious that I was blushing. The way Shiloh was examining my emaciated frame, I got goosebumps. "I thought you liked your guys big."
"I do." Shiloh's slim lips curled up. "But size isn't everything."
Across the room, Dad cleared his throat loudly and started humming some unrecognizable tune, which is what he always did when he heard something he felt uncomfortable hearing. Shiloh and I walked over behind him to see what he was checking on his computer. He was cycling through all of our vital statistics which the camera had recorded. "Looks like you two guys are safely back to normal, so that's a relief. I can survive any shit I'm going to get from the company, but if I had done anything to harm you..."
"I know, Dad," I said, wrapping my skinny arm around his shoulders. I could feel his body tense up, and he leaned forward to look at something on his computer. "What is it?"
"I'm seeing two more blips," pointing to two bright spots on a map of the city, not far from Sixteenth Street. Dad turned to me, looking like he might be willing to harm me after all. "Care to enlighten me?"
Shiloh scooted his body between Dad's and mine, trying to explain. "I did them!"
Dad glanced at Shiloh, then angrily back at me. "You let someone else use the camera?"
I was in the middle of shaking my head when Shiloh blurted out, "Ry didn't know. I snuck it away from him and did it totally on my own. Please, it's not his fault."
Dad glared at Shiloh. "So are you telling me there are two more monsters on the loose out there?"
"No! I made them both skinny! Skinnier than we are now! That shouldn't be dangerous, right? I mean, not as dangerous as super-sizing at least."
Dad thought it over, still unhappy. "Well, no, in our tests, we've found that making the body smaller and leaner is actually healthier, within reason." Dad sat down, his temper cooling. His eyes darted between Shiloh and me as he decided whether or not to believe Shiloh's story. "Can you keep tabs on these other two? And if you notice ANY adverse changes in them, you'll bring them to me immediately for testing?"
Shiloh and I said, "Yes" at the same time. I added "Dad". Shiloh added "Sir".
Dad took blood samples from both of us and ran tests on them. While we waited for results, I checked YouTube on Dad's computer. Sure enough, a dozen or more grainy videos had already been posted of two mysterious figures prowling the streets of the city. Fortunately, nobody got a good shot of our faces -- not that either of us resembled those two gorillas any more. The company had a TV in the break room and we watched the late news with Dad. The monster rampage was naturally the lead story on all the channels, but the police seemed baffled. They thought they had the beasts cornered at the old zoo, but a thorough search turned up nothing.
They did say that police were seeking a man who drove off in a pickup truck at a high rate of speed and they showed his mug shot from a previous arrest. Shiloh and I immediately recognized him as the big hairy guy who had taken off with Cole. He looked even scarier in the mug shot than he had in real life, with scowling features and steroidal muscles. "That's one of the guys, sir," Shiloh told Dad.
Dad studied the screen. "And you say he's smaller than you boys now? I think you did the world a favor." Dad smiled and went to check on the blood tests.
Left alone together in the lab, Shiloh and I stared at each other nervously. "So, what are we gonna do now?"
"Life will go back to normal, I guess. I'll be my old wimpy self and you'll hang out with the rest of Cole's posse of douchebags."
"I don't think I can, after this."
"I know what you mean."
"And what about...us?", Shiloh asked warily.
"I dunno. I mean, I really loved what we did together, but I still like girls too." I looked down at my once-again anemic body. "But they probably won't like me. Story of my life."
"Any girl, or guy, would be lucky to have you," Shiloh said, walking over and kissing me on the mouth. His lips weren't as luscious as the ones I'd specifically chosen for him, but they had the benefit of authenticity. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Anyone would be lucky to be kissed by Shiloh.
I heard Dad clear his throat and begin to hum again in the hallway. Shiloh and I parted quickly as Dad reentered the room, pointedly looking down at a computer printout. "Good news, guys. I'm not seeing anything scary in the blood tests. You probably weren't at enormous size long enough to cause any permanent damage to your organs, but you let me know if you notice anything unusual in the next few days. Fatigue, migraines, shortness of breath, pain in your joints, pain in your...loins."
Shiloh and I nodded. Dad got out his cell phone and called two cabs to pick us up. "I assume you two don't mind going back to campus the old fashioned way?"
"Fine, Dad," I said. "I think I've been sucked through Jell-O enough for one lifetime."
"Absolutely," said Shiloh. "You positive we didn't screw up anything for you?"
"I'm sure I'll be asked a few stern questions in the morning," Dad said. "But your little unauthorized field test gave us tons of data to study. And quite a few more ethical questions to debate."
When the cabs arrived, Dad shook Shiloh's hand, then gave me a warm hug. I heard him whisper in my ear, "Have fun at college, son. Make me proud."
I was happy that, after all of this, it was obvious that he still loved me. I got in the cab and, as we drove away, I felt something hard in the back pocket of my skinny jeans. I wriggled in my seat and extracted it. Shiloh and I were amazed to discover that Dad had slipped another camera in my pocket, with a Post-It attached. In the passing street lights, I was able to read the note:
"Ryan,
This camera's options are limited. Yours are not.
Love, Dad"
"What do you think that means?", Shiloh asked.
"I dunno."
When we reached my dorm, I invited Shiloh to come up so we could check out the camera. Dad had deactivated most of the menus, but I discovered two presets, one with my name and one with Shiloh's. I snapped my picture in the full-length mirror, then applied my preset. My image on the screen now looked exactly like the musclebound stud I had first changed myself into the previous night. I clicked "ACCEPT" and braced for the standard painful contortions, although they felt like nothing compared to being enlarged to "BEHEMOTH" size. As the metamorphosis occurred, I realized that my mind hadn't dulled. Dad must not have lowered my IQ the way I had during my original transformation. I couldn't blame him. He wasn't spending good money to send a dope to college.
Shiloh watched enviously as I evolved back into Ry before his eyes. As I grinned down at him, I could have predicted his next words.
"Do me."
He stood against the wall, still in his dumbass baseball cap. I eagerly applied the preset "SHILOH" modifications and pressed "ACCEPT".
Shiloh was wracked with pain as his slim body was once again wrapped in lean muscle and sun-kissed skin, and his face regained the features I had given him, the sleek nose, the powerful cleft chin, the ultra-kissable lips. His purple hat evaporated and his hair turned from brown to golden.
I reached both hands toward him and lifted him to his feet. We stood in the middle of my room, thick arms wrapped around each other's torsos, studying each other closely. If he had any imperfections, I couldn't see them, but I hoped to inspect him very, very closely, very, very frequently.
We stripped off our clothes and tumbled onto my bed, our combined weight testing the limits of the springs. Since I had taken the lead back at the Manhole, I let Shiloh assume control now. Our powerful bodies slid across each other, working up a quick sweat. Long strands of Shiloh's blond hair dangled into my eyes as he explored my mouth with his tongue. My hands slid down along his ribs until I reached up and squeezed his ass cheeks. I felt his cock pressing against my abs and starting to ooze precum, so I wriggled underneath him until I was face down. He slid his erection gently but firmly inside of me and I yowled with a mix of pleasure and pain, clawing at my pillow and tensing my legs. Shiloh's strong hands were pressed against my back for support as the pace of his humping accelerated.
When Shiloh came inside me, it may have been the best feeling I'd had all day, and after a day like this, that was saying something. But my cock was still rigid, so I flipped over and wrapped my hands around Shiloh's neck, pulling him down toward my erection. As he lovingly applied his tongue and lips to my shaft, slowly and lovingly bringing me to orgasm, the "best feeling of the day" competition had a new winner.
Shiloh lay beside me, brushing his bristly chin against my cheek and rubbing his hand up and down my chest. He whispered in my ear, "Thank your dad for me."
I laughed. I probably wouldn't mention this specifically to Dad, but I was glad he had been so cool about everything. I'm sure I had changed many of his perceptions of me that day.
Shiloh slept over with me. Cole never did come back to the room that night, and in the morning we decided it was more important to track him down than to go to our classes. We knew basically where the blips had shown up on Dad's computer screen and hoped that Cole might still be near there.
Sixty-Nine Street wasn't as active in the daytime, and city crews were still busy cleaning up the damage from last night's fracas. Shiloh and I attracted our share of attention as we walked down the sidewalk, but we had no fear that anyone would imagine that two studly gentlemen like ourselves were in any way connected with the massive creatures who had terrorized the town the night before.
As we walked further down the street, I noticed something and grabbed Shiloh by the elbow, pulling him backwards. We had just walked past a pickup truck. One that was missing its driver's side door. Jackpot! Now all we had to do was figure out where...
"Hey, boys!"
We turned and were amazed to see Cole -- at least the slender twinky version of Cole I had created -- leaning against a wall.
"Cole!", Shiloh shouted, looking relieved that his former crush was still alive and seemingly unharmed.
Cole was wearing a sheer black tank that was way too big for him and a black Speedo that seemed to fit just fine. He still had on my purple sneakers. Even in this part of town, it was an unconventional look for street clothes in broad daylight, but he was pulling it off. It was a bit annoying that I had made my tormentor look so fucking cute.
"Thank god, you escaped from that lunatic!", Shiloh said.
"What lunatic? You mean Jerry? Oh, he's such a sweetheart. I'm waiting for him so we can go get matching tats."
Shiloh and I couldn't believe what we were hearing. "You're still hanging out with the guy?", I asked.
"Uh-huh. He's inside buying some new clothes right now. He woke up this morning and couldn't find a thing that fit. Fortunately his ex had left behind some clothes that were just right for me. You like?"
"It's definitely a different look for you" was as much as Shiloh would commit.
"So when you coming back to school?", I asked.
Cole shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno if I will. Jerry wants me to go to a motorcycle rally in Reno with him. He's got a Harley and I can ride on the seat behind him!" The prospect seemed to excite him, if you could judge by his Speedo.
Not that I really wanted old Cole back in the world, but my conscience was killing me. "Are you really sure about this? I found out there's a way to cure what you've got so you'll like chicks again." I had checked overnight, and the camera still would allow me to alter a person's sexual orientation.
"Chicks? No thank you!" He flapped his hands dismissively. "No chick ever appreciated me the way Jerry does. Oh, and here comes my baby now."
Even though I knew I had reduced him to an ectomorph in the middle of last night's craziness, Shiloh and I were unprepared for the shock of seeing the new Jerry. He was walking down the sidewalk toward us, zipping up his new leather jacket, his skinny legs encased in tight leather pants. Unlike the thuggish lout who had nearly run over Shiloh with his truck last night, he now looked like a boy-band dreamboat trying to look like a tough guy, with a slightly shaggy pile of light brown hair over a baby face that had never felt the touch of a razor.
"Mmm, check out my sexy little boy-toy," Cole said. "Doesn't he look fantastic? Jerry, these are my dear friends Shiloh and Ryan."
"Uh, yeah, we met last night," I said cautiously. I had been worried about running into last night's hothead again, but I felt pretty sure Shiloh and I could handle Jerry now.
Jerry peered his bright blue eyes through the fringe of his bangs. "Oh, hey, how you guys doing today?"
If he was still mad at us, it sure didn't show. He was positively meek as he wrapped a leather-clad arm around Cole's body, palming an ass cheek. Cole kissed Jerry on the forehead. Cole may be a shadow of his former self, but the camera had made Jerry even tinier, several inches shorter than Cole.
"Awesome outfit, Jerry," Shiloh said. "Cole says you guys might be going to Reno?"
"Yeah, if he'll let me buy his sweet ass some leathers. Somewhere around the Continental Divide, he'll realize he needs more than a tank top and Speedos."
"We've got time, baby. Lots and lots of time." Cole gave Jerry a long French kiss, then smiled back at us. "So good to see you boys again." He blew us kisses, then they got into Jerry's truck and drove off.
Shiloh and I watched the truck disappear around the corner. We were shell-shocked.
"Holy shit," I said. "I guess your posse really is breaking up."
"Good riddance. So...does that mean you have an opening for a new roommate, Ry?", Shiloh asked with a sly grin.
I smiled back and teased, "Only if he looks as good in leather as Jerry."
Shiloh's eyebrows leapt at the idea. He practically raced into the leather shop.
As Shiloh began trying on jackets, I pulled out my camera and reopened my photo from last night. I hadn't pressed "SAVE", so it was still editable. I pulled up the "ORIENTATION" menu. My finger hovered over the screen as I thought about Kay from the pier and all of the girls in high school who had been content to be my friend but nothing more. And I thought about what Cole had said about Jerry. No "chick" had ever appreciated me the way Shiloh did.
I slid the dial from "BISEXUAL" to "HOMOSEXUAL".
I clicked "ACCEPT". I didn't feel much change, actually. Only a sense of calm and clarity as I watched Shiloh sliding his bare brawny arms through the holes of a leather vest. Goddamn, he looked hot. I might need to buy one of those too.
I clicked "SAVE".

Finally getting to post my first real written story for the idea I brought up before. It's not so much a part one but rather a clip I'm ready to share now. It's about seventeen paragraphs long and features macro, hyper, muscle growth, which I'll hopefully be continuing into a limitless growth scenario! Enjoy reading.
The Uncontainable Hulk
A week of research had already passed for Bruce Banner. His time spent at a remote military base in Arizona had led to his recent discovery of reprogramming his hulk-like transformation, an experiment that Bruce had just undergone yesterday. Results seemed promising and so far, nothing seemed to push him to his destructive alter ego. Even when he was provoked, Banner remained level headed and completely unchanged. What Bruce did not expect was that the Hulk lurked in other places.
Sitting in front of his computer, Bruce read through the notes and observations left behind by scientists who assisted in the test. The room was empty and quiet with only a subtle hum coming from the fluorescent lights above him. Switching the monitor off, Banner leaned back in his office chair, pondering at the outcome he was left with. Is the Hulk really gone? Am I cured of my condition? Will this be good? Questions kept forming in his mind. Although destructive, the Hulk had power that Bruce could never in his life ever experience ever again. It should be good that no longer he would fear the consequences of feeling such a natural and simplistic emotion yet Banner sat in his chair, unsatisfied by it all. He lived with his situation for so long that he found ways to keep the beast locked away. Going Hulk had benefits of its own and strength so desirable...
His loins stirred. His time spent secluded and boxed in left him bored and tired. It had been so long since he had time for himself. Bruce leaned over to his side to look behind his office chair, staring briefly at the surveillance camera before switching the monitor on and undoing his belt. His time now was of little importance and with his chair blocking most of the camera feed, Banner got right to unzipping his pants. His hand gently caressed the brief clad bulge in front of him. His mind conjured images of his body undergoing transformation. His longing of strength and power had always stuck to him on such a primal desire, something he continuously imagines when he's alone. A lengthy mound soon emerged as the blood ran through him. Adjusting accordingly, his cock was finally out from his underwear, the welcoming cool air touching his shaft. He worked the length in his palm, still picturing the Hulk, still picturing the brawn, the size, the strength and dominance...
Nearing his peak, Bruce's body suddenly stiffened with his arms jolting back and legs stretching from underneath his desk. He felt for a moment, a familiar wave of energy coursing across his torso and appendages. Banner could feel his buttoned up shirt growing tighter, his pants hugging across his legs, his feet and hands swelling slowly. He recognized this sensation and knew what was happening. The purple shirt he wore already had seams bursting in multiple spots across his growing arms. The mass of his biceps peaked through the sleeves first with his shoulders pulling apart the seams of his shirt. Buttons snapped off the tight fabric across his torso and landed on the ravaged fabric of his trousers. Rips formed across his back, thighs and forearms as the transformation kept a slow and steady pace. Banner watched in horror to see his body muscle more and more but what drew his attention was the dying erection right in front of him. He noticed his cock never discharged but instead, bloated, fattened and extended at a mesmerizing rate. The meaty member just kept growing up and up, as the veins vanished underneath the foreskin and soon after reaching it's full foot long length, fell flaccid on his keyboard with a noticeable thud. The growth had finally subsided.
Bruce was left astonished and stunned. His transformation was different this time. Sitting himself at 6'6", the mass of his body was half that of the Hulk's original size. The definite green skin tone was replaced with a warmer shade of green that affected every inch of his muscled body. At this point, his clothes barely covered him. Rags were strewn across various parts of his upper body with his pants forming into ripped shorts which spilled out his massive manhood. The white briefs he wore were still intact but barely held the soccer balls that were his genitals. Bruce lifted himself from his cramped chair, standing barefoot as his cock slithered off the keyboard and slapped against his knees. The weight of his member was truly something to experience but Bruce couldn't help but notice his mental state. He was still sane, stable and not enraged in any capacity. He had full control over all his functions. Relieved and excited, Banner reveled in his new form, admiring the bodybuilder physique he now had. His large hands grabbed at whatever scraps were left behind of his work shirt as he pressed his fingers in between the chiseled crevices of his cut muscular body. Lifting his left arm, he flexed his bicep, watching the mass rise up with a thick vein peaking to the top. Bruce was never able to truly adore his hulkish qualities. His memories of the Hulk were always muddled, shrouded in a rage filled episode that left him with nothing but regret.
His cock gave a throb, it's bulk calling to him from below. It's shape was so enticing, fat and folded, as if it was ready to start stretching to newer proportions. Although long, its form still remained short and stubby, the head of which largely taking up a third of its size. Bruce's hand slowly glided to the hairy base. His index finger pressed at the top of the shaft before his hand rested on the rest of his girth. Coincidentally, despite its new size, the cock was perfectly in proportion to his enlarged hands. His palm gently ran down the length and shivers of pure ecstasy rattled Bruce like he never felt before. The sensation felt amplified, the pleasure of which was almost intoxicating. He stroked his cock more and more and found himself shackled to the bliss his flesh delivered. The thick skin was dragged by his bulgy fingers as the meaty shape of his dick extended in sync with his masturbation, making each stroke longer than the last. Finger-thick veins reappeared across his hardening cock as its size gained an additional six inches. The climax was fast approaching. Banner's body stiffened in response as his legs locked straight up and his back bent backwards, leaving his junk elevated and ready to erupt.
Just like before, his cock did not drain. The energized sensation coursed through him a second time and bulk was steadily packing onto his figure. Banner gave a guttural groan as his hairy chest ballooned into a shelf of solid muscle. Even his deep green nipples had their share of growth, thickening at the bottom of each slab. His broad shoulders pushed out in a horizontal fashion, crevices outlining the brawn, pumpkin-like both in appearance and size. Traps rose out afterwards, crawling closer to his ears. His jaw became square with a widening chin that wholly aligned with his massive vascular bull neck. His meaty brows protruded above his green eyes as his whole face was molded manlier and stronger, resembling less of Bruce and more of the Hulk. He grunted, appearing primal and powerful. He could feel his arms exploding in size. Thick cables of muscle amassing on his already mighty limbs, bulging and flexing uncontrollably into a width that compared to that of his washboard abdomen. His chiseled six pack swelled into a brick wall of eight lumpy abs. Below the waist, his calves and thighs expanded to newfound thickness. The newly made shorts soon split from the approaching beef into even small garments, hugging his waist and covering only a third of his enormous square glutes. The back pockets peaks out from the pants over the steel-hard boulder cheeks, both tight and tugging at the fabric that was wedged in between.
And of course his cock, a sight to behold. Eighteen inches of thick, hulk meat began to swell monstrously. Each throb after the other juiced his shaft more and more as the member stretched and softened, fatter and thicker. Both testes pulled his briefs down further and further until the underwear snapped from the front. Passing two feet, his cock and the rest of his skin darkened into a noticeable shade of deep green. His body shot upwards, growing past the seven foot mark and stopping short of eight feet tall. The back of Hulk's neck now rested against the ceiling while his three foot manhood dropped to his ankles. Bruce had finally transformed into the Hulk.
Hulk breathed heavily, his chest rising up and down as his head still spun from the rush of his transformation. He was still in control but just barely. Banner finally began understanding his situation. His rage was merely usurped by his lust, persuading him to change with a bounty in the form of sexual gratification. Every ejaculation would go to fueling the Hulk's power, his libido piling on more and more until it ultimately resets, like the turning of an hourglass. Bruce might have retained his free will but the pleasure was hard to fight off. The sensation from his loins only magnified more after each growth spurt. The cycle would remain endless. His sexuality alone was dictated by his size, his mass and his manhood. Growing made him aroused, which made him grow, which aroused him again. Already the very feeling of his legs, knees and massive feet being enveloped by his scorching hot sack turned the Hulk on even more. In his mind, he didn't just want more, he NEEDED more.
Cramped inside the laboratory, Hulk hurried to exit through the door. His muscled legs constantly kept hitting against his monster junk as he tried to walk. Cock and balls bounced up and down in front of him with their added weight enticing Hulk more and more with each step. Knowing full well that he wouldn't fit, Hulk tackled at the metal door in a fit of lusty impatience, bursting through with ease as the frame and chunks of wall toppled over. Dust poured behind him as he was greeted by rows of men, clad in armor with automatic weaponry all pointed towards the green monster. The camera had already alerted the facility of his transformation.
Every gun fired directly at Hulk, the bullets casually dropping off his rippling body and rigid cock as they clattered against the concrete floor. Although impenetrable, the rounds directed at Hulk left him enduring the sharp pain from the chattering rifles. Hulk reacted, turning away from the gunfire as to shield himself from the armed soldiers. If like anything in the past, it would be expected that the Hulk would rampage, enraged by the pitiful attack of the military and the certain destruction of the entire facility. Instead, Hulk refrained himself from taking action while his massive ass and mountainous back were absorbing all the blows. Hulk only stared at the giant hole he left from the laboratory, exciting him at the casual display of left over destruction. He left that room in a fit of hot lust and that same sensation was still lingering inside, not once dying down. His desire could never be extinguished. Once his arousal started, it could only grow from that point on until he achieved his climax. Hulk could feel his cock perking up. One hand grabbed firmly at the shaft while his other hand caressed the head. The pain he felt behind him could not compare to the pleasure he was feeling. Every inch of his palm fondled his nerves as he dragged his soft green beast higher and higher into an impressive erection. His low, breathy moans picked up volume as he worked himself further. Soon, even the soldiers could hear his bliss-filled wails over their deafening weaponry. Hulk's ass was seen, clenching and unclenching as his waist involuntarily swung back and forth, driving the veiny walls of his dick into the caress of his burly hands. Sweat began to crawl down the vast expanse of his back as well as the bulging mess of muscles that formed from his torso. Pecs and abs squeezed together tightly with his thick, tree-like arms pressing his muscles inwards as he fondled his length.
The troops momentarily ceased their firing, standing bewildered at what they were witnessing. The green mass of the Hulk's body swelled at a constant rate, cramming him more into the shrinking expanse of the narrow hallway. Hulk turned himself around, panting in large heaping breaths as his whole body shook and throbbed. His stance fell to a kneel as his back pressed more into the ceiling above. His bowing posture showcased the rippling display of shoulders, traps, chest and back forming a wall of ever-growing beef. His broadening arms reached the walls at his sides while his juicy, hairy pecs bloated towards the leviathan cock, the cleavage hugging against the surface of his dick. The member started to rapidly bloat, fattening up and growing soft, expanding at an alarming rate towards the troops. One by one, each soldier began to flee at the enlarging flesh which threatened to engulf them in hot green cock. Hulk's already masculine face grew manlier in appearance. The squarish jaw and chin he possessed grew fuller and more stubbly while his protruding brow had shelved itself out more. Moans of ecstasy escaped from the vein-riddled expanse of his neck as his growing cock was fondled by the hairy surface of his beefy chest muscles. He could feel his bulbous ass entering the previous room he once dwelled. In just a short amount of time, Hulk had already filled part of the hallway, snugged firmly by the ceiling and walls.
The remainder of the troops kept themselves at a safe distance, gawking in astonishment at the girth that laid out in front of them. The cock, soft once more, had grown to eight feet long, five feet wide, resting on the massive sack that ran from Hulk's hairy crotch. Behind the mass, Hulk was wedged in at sixteen feet, hunched over and on both knees with his face and breast laying on top of his supple endowment. It only took mere seconds before Hulk's libido was fanned yet again. Everything around him catered to his sexual cravings from the cold hard walls touching his firm muscled body to the dense musky scent that invaded Hulk's nostrils coming from the godcock he laid on top of. The odor was almost too good for him. Hulk breathed in deeply, panting as his open mouth lapped at the skin of his cock. One brush of his tongue was enough to overload his senses. The taste, the touch, the smell, one sensation piled on top of the other. He couldn't get enough. He swiped his tongue over and over, rolling his meaty chest up and down the shaft. His lower body attempted to hump the air making the columns of hard mountainous muscle shift in a display of virile captivation. Cracks formed around him as the slightest movement was capable of fracturing the walls and ceiling. The last of the men fled as the junk resumed its extension into a massive erection. Hulk's drive was almost subhuman. He drooled and slobbered, writhing completely stationary to work his cock harder. The tip had finally extended and risen enough to press against the ceiling. His enormous arms destructively tried to squeeze through, desperate to reach in front and seize his titan cock. Hulk was a beast in heat, his actions became more unruly with every passing second.
Grunts and brutish groans echoed across the compound as the halls were thick with the pungent scent and heat emanating from the horny phenomenon. Every surface near Hulk trickled with droplets of condensation as well as web-like fractures that formed around the green monster. Hulk clenched his teeth, feeling the buildup rising inside his gargantuan member. Spit and sweat worked to lubricate his cock as both hands and pecs were drenched in his juices. The slick fondling of his veiny shaft sent waves of orgasmic ecstasy through the titan. Hulk roared, as loud as he could, shaking the facility with his low, beastly howls to yet another explosive climax. The walls barely held him inside before but now, had disintegrated by the slightest growth of his freakish body. Hulk stood in response to the uncontrollable muscle piling on to each of his limbs, crashing his entire upper body through the roof, colliding with concrete that barely stood against the rising force of his stance. Erupting out into the outdoors, another erotic roar signaled the rest of the compound to his presence. A display of continuous swelling green muscle emerging from the top of the building was in full view for any spectators outside.
Hulk's chest was the most noticeable in growth as it rippled outwards, lower, higher, until each hairy, juicy pec overshadowed a fourth of his torso and collided against his burly jawline. From there, his shoulders continued their routine in broadening outwards, away from his thorax as to make Hulk appear wider, leaving room for his arms to swell next. His biceps received the most attention from the miraculous gains. Each bulbous round cutlet of muscle crashed against the pillowy bulk of his chest, jutting each body-wide arm out enough to triple the span of his proportions. Hulk couldn't help but smile as his eyes continuously wandered to every solid limb getting more and more monstrous. Although the fact that he couldn't see past his chest excited him, he wish he could view the size piling onto his cock. Hulk's bottom half was mostly concealed by the remains of the compound with dust and rubble strewn across his growing features. The hot green shaft ate up what room was left inside the hall, pressing firmly against the floor, walls and eventually the ceiling, its flaccid bulk causing even more structural damage, testing the limits of the enclosure. The constriction was already arousing Hulk more and the feeling only tightened as his mammoth sac and ripped legs started to push out with more muscle.
A flat wall of veiny cock flesh started to emerge through the crumbling roof in front of Hulk. Its soft bulk atop his massive balls was enough to reach up to his hairy waist. Each growth seemed to make the member grow proportionally larger every time, now reaching a size that compared to the entirety of his lower body. From around the compound, a growing throng of people formed, evacuating the building to see the herculean monster. Hulk was left completely oblivious to the crowd, his one-track mind only fixated on sex and size. The outdoors was already an improvement from being inside the cramped cold space of his lab. So much of his green hairy exterior met with sunlight and arid heat, leaving Hulk relaxed and stimulated. Such stimulation however paled in comparison to the embrace the building had over Hulk's room-filling prick. As with each surge of size, Hulk's cock grew more receptive, more aroused, making every foot of his shaft overstimulate from any touch. Blood was quick to rush through his loins, the cramped interior only growing tighter as his cock hardened, stimulating him more, making him more erect, as the cycle continued. All he could do was feel the building work his shaft steadily, until he eventually heard more of the rooftop crumbling below, and finally his eyes could see the deep green head peaking past his monstrous chest.

“I can give you anything you wish for. Just don’t blame me if your wish comes true.” This is a series about a mystical man who shows up to people in despair to offer them what they’ve always wanted. But does he really help them? That’s for you to decide. So be careful what you wish for. You might get more than you wanted.

Hey everyone, sorry again for the delay, but work is crazy. Anyway, enjoy! Parts 1+2+3: https://muscle-growt...stop-parts-1-3/ Parts 4+5: https://muscle-growt...-stop-parts-45/ Parts 6+7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7460-dont-stop-parts-67/ PART 8: The next morning began as the previous few mornings had for Andrew. He woke up, noticed he had a huge raging erection, and went to the bathroom to take care of it. This morning, he was happily surprised to once again find that he had changed dramatically since the day before. He had a really full beard now. It was luscious, thick and was already about a quarter inch long in most places. He looked like he was well on his way to becoming a lumberjack in just a day or two. However, even under the layers of facial hair he could tell that his face was more angular and cut than before. Continuing down his body, he could see tufts of chest hair poking out of the top of his shirt. Quickly tearing off his shirt he found a veritable forest of chest hair leading to a dense covering of hair on his new eight pack abs. He could tell that his legs were much hairier too now. “I must be the hairiest Asian on campus now,” Andrew though proudly. By the increased hair wasn’t the only change Andrew found. It appeared to him that his workout had paid off handsomely because he was not only ripped, he was enormous. He was at least six feet tall now with huge tree trunks for legs. He could see massive calf muscles pushing out from his lower leg in a perfect diamond cut formation. Above them were huge quads and hamstrings that had gotten so big there was no longer a gap between his legs. His muscles were so big that they made his legs touch each other while standing up normally. Another effect of his massive quads was that his dick and balls were pushed a little bit out from his body making them look even larger than they already were. His cock had to be at least eight or nine inches long (confirmed to be 8.75 inches by Andrew’s handy ruler) and was as hard as steel. His balls meanwhile were each as large as a tangerine and churning with huge loads of semen. He needed to ejaculate soon or else they would swell so much it would start being painful. As much as he wanted to get off on his new physique, there were still areas of his body that he had not explored yet. His abs were like a cobblestone path carved into his stomach, and flexing them and unflexing them made Andrew realize that he could easily stop a gut punch with his abs of iron easily. His pecs looked absolutely swollen with new muscle. The massive fleshy pillows were so big now that his nipples hung straight down. He looked like he could bench press 400lbs easily now. However, despite all of his other fantastic muscles, the greatest was yet to come. His arms looked like they were at least 20 inches around now. Crazy veins snaked their way lazily across the top of his massive peaked biceps while his triceps hung pendulously from the back of his upper arms. His forearms were huge too (probably from jerking off so much). All in all, Andrew looked like a professional bodybuilder, and right then and there he vowed to enter a competition as soon as possible. However, Andrew was becoming a little nervous now. His body was really fucking amazing, but he was worried he was losing sight of what had truly mattered to him. He hadn’t gone to class at all the previous day and instead had spent his time furiously masturbating, working out, and having a marathon of sex with Nicole. The more he thought about his situation though, the more he realized that he liked what he had become, what he was becoming, and what he was about to become. His muscles were so sexy and powerful he felt like he could do whatever he wanted. So, he went back to the bedroom, erection swinging straight out from his body, gently woke Nicole up, and started having the best sex of his life. After his third orgasm in as many minutes, Andrew rolled off of Nicole and noticed that her chap stick had fallen out of her bag. “Hmm, I don’t recognize this brand,” Andrew thought as he put on some of the chap stick on his lips. He noticed a weird tingly feeling on his lips after the application, but he chalked it up to it being an intense mint flavor. He absentmindedly pocketed the chap stick before heading out to class. PART 9: Andrew found that his mouth was getting really dry during class all day. He couldn’t stop staring at all of the hot girls who would have been way far out of his league the previous week, but now were well within reach. He felt tormented by these adulterous thoughts, but the girls were hooked on his new physique. They would blow him little kisses and wink seductively at him, and in response to his rapidly drying mouth he would put on chapstick at least twice every hour. None of this was helping get rid of the erection he had maintained all day since having tantric sex with Nicole that morning. He felt the urge to sneak off the bathroom between every class to masturbate, and even struggled to limit himself to one orgasm. Finally he was done with classes for the day, so he ran to the gym as fast as he could. He could feel his thighs chaffing against each other a little bit as his legs swelled with blood, getting pumped and swollen from just a few short minutes of cardio. As soon as he was done changing in the locker room (where all of the guys were amazed by Andrew’s flaccid dick which was longer than almost all of their dicks hard), he hit the weights. Something immediately felt different to Andrew. As soon as he began his first bench press he could feel an intensity in his entire body that filled him with euphoria. His now 9.5 inch cock instantly hardened and lengthened a bit more filling the front of his gym shorts with an obscene bulge. Every lift he did filled him with euphoria and made him feel like he was about to burst through his own skin. He could feel his muscle growing with each curl, each squat, each press. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore except that it felt fucking incredible and that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. A sizeable crowd had gathered around him including several of the girls and guys who had been eying his physique all day long. They couldn’t take their eyes off of his bulge and bulging muscles, and a few were becoming noticeably aroused right there in the middle of the weight room. Eventually one of them, a cute black girl sauntered up to Andrew and sat on his lap as he was bench pressing. His dick instantly went into overdrive as he shot load after load into his gym pants. He never stopped lifting during his orgasm, and the crowd gasped as they notices his pecs and arms swell larger and larger with each rep and cum shot. Just as he was about to stop shooting his tank top ripped right off his chest as his confined pecs burst through the fabric. Andrew was an animal. He knew that he loved Nicole, but his sex drive was amped up way too high to ignore all of his waiting admirers. He picked the black girl off of his lap and carried her on his shoulders to the private shower stalls where he fucked her brains out. Andrew was becoming more and more aware of the fact that something weird was happening to his body, but so far all he had surmised was that each time he came he would get bigger, and not just his muscles. He could feel his dick expanding with each orgasm. It wasn’t much each time, but with the way he had been cumming the past few days, he was on his way to having the biggest dick of all time. He didn’t want this growth to ever stop.

Host: Hello everyone and welcome to another season of "Gainers". I am your host Freddi Fit and you may remember me from
becoming the muscle alpha I am today on our very first season just three years ago.
*Freddi Fit raises a double bicep flex, stretching his button down short sleeves to their limit.
"After all, who can forgot that glorious moment when I was voted to steal everything from Hank The Tank
who had been growing massive all season. It was a major upset and the audience was ready to see a new alpha
show that brute a lesson. Since then I've been living the dreams as America's hunkiest bodybuilder.
Well tonight this dream begins once again with 8 brand new contestants. After twelve weeks, one of them will be
left with a hulking body while the others leave smaller than they came. And like always, every week you the audience
will decide who gets what. Now let's not waste any time here and meet our contestants.
Screen switches to contestant video number one. A nineteen year old college wrestler named Cam.
"Hey everyone! The name is Cameron, or Cam for short. I've been wrestling for six years and I can't wait to show
the other men who the real jock is gonna be. Maybe if you're lucky you might even see me put some of them in
headlocks and drain the muscle from them."
Screen switches to contestant video number two. A 39 year old college professor who has been working out for many years.
"Hello everyone, it Max here. I've been a health science teach for about 10 years and have always wanted more in life. I'm
hoping to win and become the next leading model for muscle god magazine. Either way, I'm hoping to teach the other men a
thing or two about what it means to be blessed with muscle."
Screen switches to contestant number 3. A 24 year old ex fire fighter who recently begun a modeling career.
"If you thought fighting fires was hot, wait till you see me on nothing but my suspenders. Hey everyone my
names chad. Make sure you vote for me this season so I can become the muscular flame that makes you sweat."
Screen switches to contestant number 4. A 31 year old cop from NYC.
"Hey. It's Stu. I've been lifting ever since becoming a cop, but to keep the streets safe, I'm going to need your
help to grow my guns and have the fire power needed to intimidate the bad guys and fight crime."
Screen switches to contestant number 5. A 27 year old businessman.
"Hello everyone, being a businessman keeps me quite busy. So I'm going to need your help building these muscles
as big as they can get so I can really fill out my suites nicely! By the way, the name is Dominique."
Screen switches to contestant number 6. A 42 year old father.
"Hello everyone. My name Ken. Before I had children I was in pretty good shape. However since then I've begun to
get out of shape. I need your help to be bigger and better than I was when I was younger."
Screen switches to contestant number 7. A 21 year old college graduated pursuing a career in acting.
"Hey y'all. Zac here. I've been trying to make it big as an actor but you know they are looking for muscular guys
these days. Help me become a jacked up actor."
Screen switches to contestant number 8. A 25 year old man living in his parents house.
"Hi everyone. I'm Tony, and I've been having a really hard time finding a job. Can you help me you help me
out and give me the chance to pursue a career in fitness and get the hell out of my parents house. They'd really
appreciate it as well!"
Tony is clearly the smallest guy. Although he still has slight hints of muscle, there isn't much for the others to take.
Host: "Well don't we just have a great batch this year. The group will be entering the growth cell now where they will
spend the next 12 weeks changing. Go online now to vote for your top 4 favorite guys who will receive a special serum boost
tomorrow night to start off the game. And don't forget to send in your nicknames for each dude. The most votes will decide
what we call each contestant from here on. Anyways. Goodnight Gainer fans! Freddi Fit signing off!"
*Freddie fit solutes the camera and transitions in to an archer pose as the credits roll.*